


Ethereal Beauty

by Wealthywetsunny



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Fairy, Kidnapped, Torture, fae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23576446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wealthywetsunny/pseuds/Wealthywetsunny
Summary: “John deals more heavily with this kind of thing, all the legalities of it all. The court wants you to stay, just so you’re aware.”“Am I...am I going to this party?”He hadn’t explained their celebration well at all. Left it vague, though that might’ve been on purpose.“I haven’t decided yet. Though I suppose that’s mostly your decision.”She bows her head, nervous. “And if I don’t go to this party. If I fight? What happens?”“Simple. You become our prisoner.”
Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge/Faith Seed, Female Deputy | Judge/Jacob Seed, Female Deputy | Judge/John Seed, Female Deputy | Judge/Joseph Seed
Comments: 53
Kudos: 119





	1. New World

Hope county is beautiful at night. It’s dangerous, yeah, okay, she gets that. She’s been told again and again that one day her luck will run out, but she can’t help it. Maybe it’s wanderlust, but it’s freeing to step outside, pick a direction and start waking. To see where your feet take you that day. 

Tonight’s no different. The moon is full and, like always, the sky is full of stars. She stares up at them until her neck hurts, trying to find a constellation she might recognize, she comes up empty because of course she does, she knows nothing about stars, and she keeps walking. 

Her hand holds down the satchel slung over her shoulders, trying to stop it from bumping against her hip. It’s loud in the quiet of nature, and she doesn’t want to miss out on a thing. Her decision pays off instantly when she hears the crackle of a branch to her left. Instinctively she pauses. She’s not a hunter, hardly a survivalist, and she’s not sure if there’s a predator or prey behind those bushes. 

She waits a couple beats, head tipped and muscles tense. Ready to run. There’s the slow press of leaves being crunched and—

It’s a deer. 

It sees her immediately, eyes bright when it looks up. Leaves dangling from its lips. 

It’s gone as soon as it appeared, which makes her heart drop a little. That’s probably the closest she’s gotten to a wild animal, even after all her years of living in Hope County. She’s never been considered selfless enough to wonder close enough to a wolves den

She chooses to follow it. In the dark, without her phone—because it’s Hope County and she never has her phone with her. What danger could she get into in the countryside? She trails after it as best as she can until she almost stumbles off a rock’s ledge and realizes that she’s testing her luck a little bit too much. 

She’s not lost, Holland Valley isn’t too big once you get to know it, but she’s not in a rush to get back. She wanders a little bit more than she should when getting out of the woods to find a proper road. She wants to go a longer way, to make up for such a short walk. 

Her head is dipped, focusing on not tripping over an unearthed root, when she stops. She does a slow circle, eyes flicking upward. 

“Weird…” she squints, just to make sure her eyes aren’t playing tricks on her. No, this is real. Not scary, just strange for nature. Mushrooms are normal. But in a circle? Weird is the right word. 

She takes a step backwards, fully intending to leave, to just give it one last glance and be gone, but something grabs her. From everywhere—all around it feels like she’s being pulled. Like she’s being torn apart at the seams. Rook screams only out a shock, just as everything flashes a scary brilliant white. 

*****

Rook can’t move. She’s not sure what’s holding her down, but it’s impossible to move. She tries to wiggle her fingers or toes, but nothing works. She’s stuck. And that’s when the panic sets in. 

A whine rises from her throat as she manages to crack open her eyes. She tries to look around, to move her head, but that doesn’t work either. 

She thinks for a moment that she’s dead. 

Then she hears voices and her whole body seizes up. Her eyes close again and she plays dead just as a door opens somewhere off to her right. 

“She’s alive?” 

“Yes, Joseph.” 

A man and a woman then. She can’t tell their age, nothing discernibly young or old about them.

Rook settles back into the bed as best as she can, and she’s glad that she can’t move right now, because she’s sure she would’ve jumped when a cold hand presses against her forehead. Lithe fingers stroke her skin, moving down her cheek and stopping there.

“You’ll watch after her?”

There’s a soft giggle in response. “Of course, Joseph. That’s my job.” 

“Thank you, Faith.” 

“And John? I bet he’s panicking.” 

Someone sighs, and the hand is gone. “He is. Always the perfectionist. People are looking to him, wondering what stance he’ll take on this new arrival. It seems as if only Jacob has it easy.” 

“He deserves it.” 

The man laughs, a quiet thing shared between people who’ve known each other for a long time. She holds her breath as their footsteps wander away, leaving her alone with the soft click of a closing door. 

She opens her eyes again—confused and scared because it becomes clear now. She’s been kidnapped, whether she remembers it or not. Even if her last memory was of her walking through the woods. 

It takes a moment of Rook struggling up on her elbows before she realizes her mistake. There’s a bright pair of hazel eyes that find hers instantly. Oh and how they absolutely  _ light up  _ when they meet hers. 

“You’re awake! Joseph is going to be pleased. He’s been waiting.” 

Rook can’t speak. She cannot speak for the life of her despite how rude it is to just stare. That’s what she’s doing, staring, eyes locked onto this woman and holy shit—

“What are you?” Rook’s aware of how horrified she sounds, but she can’t seem to stop herself. This thing, it has wings. It’s enough to stop anyone dead in their tracks. 

“My name’s Faith.”

That...is not what Rook had meant. 

“You have wings.”

Faith, this thing, frowns at her. Dainty fingers twisting the lace edges of her dress. Shifting on what Rook now realizes is bare feet. 

“Most people would give their name in return.” 

“No.” Rook tries to sound assertive and falls short. She tosses off the blankets as she comes to the notion that this girl is smaller than she is. Rook could take her. “I don’t even know where I am. You don’t need my name.”

Faith’s face twists, a sigh escaping perfectly plump lips. “You should be more careful with your words around here,” Faith mutters as Rook stands on shaky feet. “It’s very important not to be rude.” It sounds vaguely like a threat—and Rook grows angry at this whole fucked up situation. 

“Is it?” Rook asks instead, rounding the bed to come face to face with her. “What are you?” 

“A fae. Or fairy, that’s what you’d probably call us.”

She squints at Faith, peering more closely at the wings she first laid eyes on. They’re small, paper thin. Like they can break and bend and snap. They flutter and twitch occasionally, moving with the slightest action. Like the rest of her, Faith’s wings are the epitome of pure, a light colored pastel green that hurts to look at. 

“Staring is impolite.”

Rook recoils, stumbling back a few steps. “You seem very intent on me being nice. Is that a thing around here?” Rook laughs nervously, trying to ease some of the tension. But Faith doesn’t laugh, she just stares at Rook before giving a soft smile. 

“You’ll find out soon, mortal.”

“Don’t call me that.”

She giggles, skipping closer and cupping her jaw. “Then tell me your name and I won’t go back to such derogatory words.” 

Rook considers it, she shouldn’t, but some part of her hopes that maybe that will be her ticket out of here. Maybe she’ll get all the answers she wants if she just tells Faith her name. 

She opens her mouth, body relaxing under Faith’s gentle touch. And the door behind her opens. 

“Faith.”

Faith’s eyes darken before she dances away from Rook and flits forward. And  _ flit  _ is the right word, because Rook swears she glides across the floor. 

“Brother John! How kind of you to come join us!” 

He addresses her with a lot less enthusiasm, a simple muurmer of “Faith,” then he’s staring at Rook. More imposing than his sister. Which—Rook has to be honest—she doesn’t see the resemblance. Or the familial bond. 

“What are you doing here?” Faith blessedly asks, drawing John’s attention away from Rook for the moment. 

“Joseph wanted me to come speak to you, to share our ideas on what’s to be done with her.” 

“Oh.” Faith sounds only mildly disappointed, which doesn’t mix with the terse expression on her face when she rounds back towards Rook. “But we were having a nice chat, Johnny.” Faith pouts, skipping over to run her fingertips across Rook’s back. “Can’t it wait?”

“No, not really, you were there the day the fae court convened. We need to come to a decision as soon as possible,” he pauses with a raised eyebrow, gesturing to Rook, “and since she’s awake. We’re doing it now. Bring her along.” John gives her one last glance, and it’s then that she notices he has wings as well. 

As a child she pictured fairies as women, her brain never imagined men to be such beautiful creatures. The same way most kids think of mermaids and not mer _ men.  _ It’s jarring. Though it’s not befitting. He’s not huge, only inches taller than her. His frame isn’t muscular either, hips real narrow. His beard helps, too. 

The wings are still a little strange. 

They’ve got the same lithe structure that Faith’s does, the colors different, and that makes sense. Like hair color she guesses. They’re a deep chocolate brown, close to matching his hair. They have spots of orange, akin to the patterns on a butterfly—like a monarch. 

“Don’t stare,” he snaps, making her jump. “It’s rude.”

She huffs, chin tipping down to her chest. “So I’ve been told.”

“Have you now?”

He glances back at his sister for clarification and she just nods, which makes Rook grind her teeth. The little rat. 

“It’ll be put on record, everything you do here. Joseph and the rest of the fae court will know about this promptly.” 

Rook doesn’t get the chance to ask what he means. If the fae court is something she should be concerned about. It’s not like being rude is a crime. At least, not where she comes from. In a world where people don’t have wings. 

She’s boxed in by them, Faith behind her and John leading her down the winding halls. She tries to make a mental map of the layout, looking for escape routes, but it’s futile. They move too fast for her to catch a glimpse into some of the open doors along the way, and the windows are all covered with fancy lace curtains. 

Before she knows it John’s coming to a stop and knocking on a door. There’s a brief pause, one where she glances past John to where she thinks is a set of doors that would lead outside. 

“Come in.” 

She flinches when John steps aside and places a hand on the small of her back, pushing her in as he opens the door. The room is larger than she would’ve thought from the outside. Spacious and grand. 

“John, Faith, please come in.” 

Rook shuffles on her feet, standing back cautiously. She tries to appear small, to not attract attention, but that’s near impossible. She’s the only one in the room without wings—and strangely that makes her feel self conscious, like she’s intruding. 

“Darling, it’s so nice to see you up and moving.” 

The man who greeted them approaches her, a hand outstretched in greeting. It’s instinct that makes her take it. 

“My name is Joseph Seed. Head of the fae court.” 

She nods, at a loss for words as she rakes her eyes over her the tips of his wings that peak out from over his shoulders. 

“She doesn’t speak much,” John comments, walking slowly to come into her view. “Lets hope she’ll grow out of it around us.”

Joseph just laughs softly, squeezing her hand tight. “She must be confused, it’s a lot to take in.” He glances over his shoulder and smiles, “Jacob will you pour our guest a drink?”

“The good shit?” 

Joseph sighs when John laughs, must be some kind of inside joke. Though Joseph doesn’t answer his question. 

She watches them walk around the room, getting out cups and muting a TV that had been playing when they walked in. They move fluidly around each other, slipping past one another with a familiarity that makes her frown. 

“You’re a family?” It comes out as a whisper, but Joseph hears her anyway. He sits down on a couch in the middle of the room and gestures for her to come near. 

She does so only hoping that he’ll answer her questions. 

“These are my brothers and sister. You’ve met John and Faith,” he shifts towards her as she sits besides him, “and that’s Jacob.” There’s a fondness in his voice when he guides her attention towards the large redhead pouring liquid into a glass. 

“What’s your name?” 

Rook squints at him suspiciously, watching each of his siblings sit down in turn. They’re drinking...something. The same thing that’s being pushed towards her. 

“I have questions,” she whispers instead, ignoring the drink completely. 

“I’m sure you do. And I’d be happy to answer them, but we told you who we are, and I’d appreciate it if you would extend the same courtesy.” He leans in, a hand placed over her knee, “the whole of our community is dying to hear who has joined us this time.” 

The mere prospect of him answering her questions makes this an easy decision. “Rook. Rook Macamere.” 

Joseph’s smile grows wide, like he’s just won the lottery. She hears Faith ooh at her name, excited for reasons Rook can’t explain. Jacob just snorts, leaning back against the chair across from her, and when she catches his eye he just smiles something sinister. She can’t bring herself to look at John. 

“Good,” Joseph breathes, the hand on her knee tightening. “Take her back to her room, Jacob. John, please call a meeting with the court, there’s still much to be discussed.” 

*****

“It’s a party?” Her eyebrows crease, trying to follow Joseph’s running commentary. 

He tugs gently at the knots in her hair. Turning her head this way and that with care. “Yes.” 

“Why me?”

“We didn’t choose you, darling. You’re the one who entered  _ our _ world. That was your own doing.” He sounds so matter of fact about it, so...uncaring, to her plight. It’s as if he doesn’t understand her panic, her fear and want to be anywhere else but here. 

She looks at him through the bathroom mirror, angry when he doesn’t stare back. More focused on the mundane task of making her look presentable. 

Her hands curl on the porcelain edge of the sink. “And if I want to go back?”

“Take that up with John.”

The thought makes her stomach church, and she must not hide her distaste well because Joseph laughs. She shifts back into him as he works at an unruly part of her hair. 

She's quiet for a moment, lost in thought. She doesn’t hate John, she hardly knows him, but he scares her. Faith and Joseph are just as unknown to her, but they aren’t as intimidating. They don’t seem to hate her like John does. Hell, even Jacob doesn’t seem to mind having her around. 

Joseph puts the hairbrush down, stepping back to grab at an outfit Faith handed him.

With his back turned it's easier to talk to him. She swallows down her fear and asks “I thought you were the leader.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, turning around to face her. “I lead the court, yes. John deals more heavily with this kind of thing, all the legalities of it all. The court wants you to stay, just so you’re aware.”

“Am I...am I going to this party?”

She’s still unclear what this even party is. He hadn’t explained it well. Left it vague, though that might’ve been on purpose. 

“I haven’t decided yet. Though I suppose that’s mostly your decision. Our last guest celebrated with us, he had a wonderful time. He left…” Joseph pauses in thought, handing over her new clothes before speaking again. “I think fifteen years ago. And now we have you.”

She bows her head, nervous. “And if I don’t go to this party. If I fight? What happens?”

“Simple. You become our prisoner.” 


	2. Party

The dress they put her in is _tight_. Form fitting, hugging her body and showing curves she usually hides. The jacket helps. Falling in a pleated way that hides her chest, stopping just at her belly button. Even so, it’s still a bit much. 

When she emerges from the bathroom though, she gets a warm reception from Faith. The woman is beaming at her, hands clasped in front of her with a girlish giggle. 

“Oh, Rook! Look at you!” Faith’s at her side in an instant, wings fluttering excitedly. “You’re going to make such a great impression.”

Rook’s stomach drops. “No pressure though, right?”

Faith only laughs, grabbing at Rook’s arm and dragging her along. Taking her out of the room she’s been kept in—one she’s apt to call her own—and down the same path of hallways that John took her to see Joseph. 

Rook can’t hide her budding excitement as Faith pushes open a large set of double doors and she’s met with the outside world. It’s breathtaking. There’s a sparkle about the woods they’re in that Rook can’t put her finger on. 

“What’s the place called?” Rook asks when Faith just lets her linger and stare.

“It has many names, First World, Otherworld, Arcadia—call it what you’d like.”

“Where’s the party?” 

Faith’s face lights up and she grabs Rook’s hand. Tugging her along further into the forest around them. “Just through here. It’s eternal.”

“Yeah. Yeah, Joseph said that.” Except Rook hadn't really understood what he meant. “Do people sleep around here?”

“ _Faes_ ,” she corrects softly, “sleep. Of course they sleep. It’s not an eternal party in the way you think.”

Rook clutches Faith’s hand tighter, considering if she’d be able to drag her feet and escape from Faith. But then Faith pushes through a large patch of brush and they’re there. The decorations are just as pretty as the world around it. They compliment each other nicely. 

“Let’s find Joseph,” Faith declares, and really Rook doesn’t have any choice but to follow her. They’re already getting stares, they’re bound to, it seems like she’s the only one here who’s not a fairy. 

She spies a table stacked high with food and drinks. There are wine glasses capped off at the very top, small sandwiches on an elevated tower, salad bowls and a cheese plate. There’s more she can’t see, the table seems to go on forever. 

It makes her mouth water. Not like she’s starving. Joseph sends food to her room three times a day, she’s just been hesitant to eat any. Who knows what they’ve done to it? It's too risky. Two days of no food won’t kill her, it’ll just make her a bit sluggish. The hunger cramps went away eventually. And the water that came from the bathroom sink worked just fine. 

But that food is exquisite. Just the kind of thing she’d expect from a party that’s been hyped up as much as it has. 

Rook knocks into the back of Faith, not realizing that she had stopped. When she looks up, she holds her breath. Joseph’s smiling at her, a twinkle behind his eyes as he looks her up and down. 

“You look beautiful, Rook. Stunning.” 

She clasps her hand in front of her, bowing her head slightly and trying for humility, “thank you, Joseph.” She pauses, swallowing down her fear because it would do her a lot of good if she was nice to these creatures. “You clean up well yourself.”

He laughs, maybe seeing through her compliment. “Faith, thank you for bringing her here. You may go and say hello to everyone. Enjoy yourself.” 

Faith bounces on her bare feet and races off, white dress fluttering in the wind. 

“And you, Rook, come with me. The rest of the fae court would like to meet you.” He doesn’t take her hand like Faith did, allowing her to walk beside him. Like they’re equals. “Are you hungry?” 

“Oh, uh—“

“You haven’t been eating the food I’ve given you. Maybe the selection we have here is more to your taste.” 

Her lip twitches as she tries not to betray how she actually feels. “Maybe.” 

Joseph moves smoothly through the crowd, slipping by them with ease. Occasionally saying hello or reaching out to graze his hand against someone’s shoulder. Her, on the other hand, isn't as used to the sight this party makes. She’s not as delicate on her feet as Joseph. By the time they reach the fae court she’s stepped on someone's foot twice over and kept knocking into fae’s wings. 

Joseph only pulled her along and apologized, while she kept her head down to hide her burning cheeks. 

She notices John and Jacob instantly, but there are two others who she hasn’t seen before. They seem just as important as the brothers. 

“Joseph, about time you joined us.”

Joseph just smiles at John, his patience never ending. “I was waiting for Rook. She needed a guide for tonight, yes?” 

John’s expression shifts as he regards her over the lip of his wine glass. “Yes. Yes, she does.”

Rook regards the men in front of her wearily before one steps forward. “It’s nice to meet you, little lady. The name’s Alex. Charmed.” He sticks out his hand and brings it up to his lips when she returns the handshake. Kissing the back of her palm sweetly. 

“R-Rook.”

“Yes, sweetheart, I know. Word spreads fast around here.” He gives her a wink before pulling back. 

The man beside him does the same, only without placing an unwanted kiss on her hand. His smile is tense, as if he’s the only one in the fae court who doesn’t want her here. Or maybe that’s her wishful thinking, just hoping that someone here sees something wrong with this. 

“Tyler DiArgo.” 

She murmurs out her name again, afraid after what John said to make a bad impression on these people. 

The conversation they fall into is easy and practiced, but it doesn’t involve her. She tries to listen, to keep up, but she doesn’t understand half of what they’re saying. They’re using lingo she doesn’t get, talking about things that don’t make much sense. 

She loses herself for a bit just standing there next to Joseph, staring off into the distance until John comes around to grab her shoulder. 

“Joseph wants you fed,” he explains curtly when she just stares at him. “C’mon, we’re bound to find something you’ll like.” 

As he tugs her along by her bicep she glances over her shoulder. This time she does drag her feet into the dirt. John gives a slight snarl and yanks her forward, making her stumble into his side. She lets out a short yelp of surprise. The sound causes Joseph to look over and she hears him call “be careful,” as a slight warning. And she knows why when she looks around and sees so many faes staring at them. 

John’s more overt when he starts walking next. A hand lingering on her lower back, making this interaction look more friendly than it really is. 

The walk to the table of food she saw when Faith first brought her here seems longer with John. He’s stopping more often than Joseph did. Speaking with Faes animatedly. Laughing real, genuine laughs and having an actual good time. She realizes that he’s handsome when he’s not so crazy. 

She would try to listen to what they're talking about, but she’s more focused on their wings. They’re all so _different._ So pretty, too. It makes her envious for a moment, to be as plain as she is. And she wonders—

There’s a lapse in the conversation and she grabs a hold of his coat sleeve. “John?” 

There’s a flicker of annoyance behind his eyes. “What?” 

“Can you turn someone into a fairy?” 

“Fae. Say Fae, it makes us sound like less of a myth.” She’s about to apologize, but he holds up his hand and barrels on. “And no. No, we’re not werewolves or vampires. We can’t _turn_ people.”

“Wait.” She tightens her hold on his sleeve. “Do werewolves and vampires exist?”

He laughs, tossing her a wink before guiding her away from the group he’d been talking with. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

John hands her a plate when they get to the highly stacked table, taking one of his own. He grabs whatever he wants, not stopping to wait for her as she tries to decide. Her stomach rumbles as she looks on, attracting more stares. 

“Lets go Rook, choose something.” John’s back by her side again. His plate full of food. She blinks at him before grabbing things at random. Too hungry to care whether or not she’d usually eat it. 

John cartes her around again as they eat. He and everyone else seems to be masters at eating in mid air. Using just their plate as a table. She’s having trouble trying to grab something and jam it inside her mouth before the plate tips and falls and she embarrasses herself. 

Out of the corner of her eye she sees John glance at her continuously and she has to wonder if messy eating is a large enough offense to be brought to the fae court. 

By the time her plate is empty John is done talking about whatever the hell he’d been talking about. By comparison he only ate half of what he took, tossing the rest. 

“You can do whatever,” John says with a wave of his hand. “Talk to people, just don’t run off.” 

She watches him walk off. Heavy, dark wings drawing her attention before he disappears behind a crowd of people. Leaving her alone for the first time. Not truly alone, she’s surrounded by Fae, but no ones watching her to make a mistake. They’re staring out of curiosity, nothing more. 

It’s freeing. 

And she’s going to use this time wisely. She’s going to _explore._ Maybe find a way out. The thought excites her, makes her move through the crowd with such purpose that some even step out of her way. 

The forest seems to go on forever. Neverending. With huge moss covered boulders and trees that touched the sky. She crosses streams and keeps glancing over her shoulder, afraid that she’s being followed. That Joseph will find her and make do on his threat if she doesn’t attend his party. 

She pushes past bushes and sucks in a breath. 

“Wha—?” 

She’s back where she started. Staring directly at the house she had been kept locked inside. Rook’s ready to scream, to burn this damn place down. 

“What’re you doing?”

She jumps, swirling on her heel to come face to face with Jacob. 

“...hi.”

He regards her cooly. Raising an unimpressed brow. “What are you doing?” He repeats, a little more forcefully this time. 

“Walking. Just..walking around.” 

He laughs, stepping forward and past her, continuing on until he can lean against the house and slide down on the ground. He tips his head back, watching her for a second before muttering “you’re a shit liar.” 

“I’m not—“

“You are.” He props one leg up, the other sprawling out before him. “C’mon, sit.” He gestures beside him. She hesitates, fingers balling into fists. He doesn’t seem to mind her lack of immediate response. Content to wait for her. 

Carefully she walks over, leaving some space between them as she sits. 

“You can’t leave,” he tells her, staring off into the distance. “The only way to go back is if we take you back. You need our help to do it, so it's best not to run off.”

“You can help me then.” She leans in close, a hand grasping his forearm. “You can get me back.”

But he’s already shaking his head, a frown on his face. “No. The whole court needs to agree on sending you back, it can’t just be me.”

Rook visibly deflates, letting go of him and falling back against the house. Tears gather at the corner of her eyes, smearing her vision until it’s all a blurry mess.

“I want to go. Surely that must count for something. I’m my own person, you can’t keep me here.” 

Jacob laughs softly, head turning her way despite her refusal to look at him. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that. See where that gets you.”

She draws her knees up to her chest, burying her head in her folded arms. “I’ll escape,” she promises quietly, ignoring the way he shakes his head at her. “I will.” She needs to repeat it. The moment she loses hope is the moment she’s stuck here. She won’t let that happen. No matter what she has to do. 


	3. Escape

Rook’s staring at Joseph like he’s gone mad. Eyes flickering briefly behind him to focus on his siblings. Unsure what to do, how to navigate this minefield that’s been laid before her. It’s uncharted territory. 

“No strings attached,” Joseph assures her for what seems to be the hundredth time. “A thank you, of sorts. For your cooperation.”

She glances back at Jacob—he must not have told them about last night, back when he caught her trying to slip away. When he warned her not to waste her time on such a thing. 

“Okay then.” She reaches out and takes the box from him. It’s heavy, wrapped in fancy gold paper that reminds her vaguely of Christmas time. She’s slow when she opens it, showing care in not tearing through the wrapping paper. She doesn’t want them to think that she’s over eager about this. She’s afraid that’d give the impression that she’s easily bribed with gifts. That all it takes for her to stop asking about how the hell she can go home is a simple present. 

But then she looks inside and realizes that it just might be that easy. 

The first thing she sets her eye on is chocolate. Truffles to be exact. The sight makes her stomach swirl with want. It’s such a base level thing to get someone because who doesn’t like chocolate? 

Beneath that is a set of leather gloves, _expensive_ leather gloves. And she briefly wonders what’s the currency in this world. If somehow these people are rich or if they can get whatever the hell they want just for belonging to the fae court. 

She digs deeper and finds a set of wine glasses and a bottle—it reminds her painfully of her first night here, when she had been offered a glass that she hadn’t drank from. At the very bottom is a journal, and she hates the implication that lies there, that she’ll be here a while. That she ought to do something to pass the time. 

It’s...a lot. Much more than she expected. 

Her lips twist, unsure of what to say before settling on a lame “thank you.”

“Do you like it?” Joseph asks, stepping forward to sit down on the bed with her. He leans heavily against her, watching her face with rapt attention. 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I didn’t expect this...and I...I don’t exactly have anything to give in return.”

Joseph just smiles at her, laying a hand over hers. Like her mere presence is enough of a trade. 

“So you’ll accept it?” John bounces on his feet. Excited. 

She nods immediately. It’d reflect poorly on her if she didn’t take it. It’d make things a little too tense around here. More so than they already are. 

“Perfect,” Joseph breathes. He leans forward and tips their foreheads together. It’s awkward and strange, and her stomach churns from touching him. She grits her teeth and bares it though. Afraid to refuse him. 

Joseph rises, his smile still lingering. “Rest now, we apologize for waking you so early.”

She’s left speechless, grasping the box in her lap tightly as she watches Joseph turn on his heel. His wings, a soft pastel orange all around, are tucked tight to his back, and she has a feeling that has something to do with this encounter—as if he had been nervous. 

Did she do something wrong? 

She’s about to ask, to confront Joseph, let him know that he’s yet to really answer any questions she’s had. That somehow Jacob’s the one who revealed more than them. But as John and Joseph leave, talking about something she can’t hear, Jacob lingers at the door. He catches Faith’s arm before she can leave.

“You should give it to her.” 

“Joseph doesn’t want—“

Jacob rolls his eyes with a laugh, reddened wings flaring out. Making him seem bigger than he really is. “Fuck what Joseph wants. It’s already been done, she can’t get out now. What’s the harm in letting her know what’s happened?” 

Rook watches the interaction between brother and sister. Eyes flicking nervously between the two. It’s like some standoff between lions. Both daring each other to oppose the other.

Only Jacob’s much better at scaring people. His wings span the breadth of his shoulders, stretching out angrily. A cobra cocking it’s hood and extending its neck. A cat with its hair standing up on end to look larger. Using all it has to scare it’s opponent away. 

There’s a tense pause before Faith relents with a sigh. Muttering that she’ll be right back. 

Which leaves Rook alone with Jacob. 

“What do you mean?” She asks softly, placing the box on the floor. “You said ‘now I can’t get out,’ I thought it was the court's decision.” 

Jacob scratches at his beard, his wings finally tucking back to his spine. “I said that me alone couldn’t let you leave. The same way that me alone wouldn’t be able to choose to have you stay.” He advances on her, seeming to feed from her fear and uncertainty. “But you’re staying. Because…” he leaves his sentence hanging, and it takes her a moment to realize that she’s meant to complete his thought. 

“B-because—“ she frowns, hands tightening on the sheets beside her, “because the court decided?”

He smiles at her, proud. “The court decided,” he repeats. He doesn’t elaborate further, going back to his place leaning against the wall across from her until Faith comes shuffling back in. Looking unsure and small. 

In her hands she’s holding a leather bound book. Worn from age and overuse. Faith shakily hands the book to her, not meeting her eyes. 

She turns to face her brother, hands wound tightly behind her back. “This will only scare her, Jacob.” 

He shrugs, “it’ll stop her from asking so many damn questions. I’m getting sick of it. Her and Joseph both.” 

She grits her teeth. Doesn’t add that her questions had never been directed at him. That if he was really so bothered then he could’ve actually answered her. Instead she holds the book to her chest and nods her goodbye as they leave, closing the door behind them and clicking the lock into place. 

There’s no need to wait, she doesn’t think she’d be able to go back to sleep even if she wanted to. Not with this book resting so near. Especially when she’s not even supposed to have it. 

She cracks open the first page and almost immediately she realizes what this is. What the blank cover omitted. This is a history book on people. Actual people, not Faes. To a human like her, it's closer to a rule book. 

**Don’t give away your name**

_This is basically selling your soul. You will be bound to that fae not only in this lifetime, but in all future lifetimes. They can call you into birth from the soul realm at any time, or even send you back if your current incarnation is not suiting them. The only way to break from this enchantment is to either kill said fae, or bind said fae (which could eventually come undone)._

Fuck. Jesus fucking Christ. 

Her hands tighten on the edges of the paper. Anger and fear rising in her. She’s bound to them. Body, mind and soul. It’s theirs. 

She presses on, head dipped and trembling. 

**Never eat food that they give you**

_Eating their food will do two things. Eating their food will force you to stay there, in their world. Second, eating their food will make you no longer hungry for human food. Which means that you will starve if you go back to your realm._

Second mistake. Two strikes. At this point she should just kill herself. There’s really no going back now. It’s already too late. 

**Never stand in a fairy ring**

_Fairy rings are rings of mushrooms that grow in a perfect circle, occasionally where a tree has died, and they’re portals to the Faerie realm. Centuries pass outside the realm, while seconds pass inside. When you are transported to the Faerie realm, you could be treated as their guest, or you could become their prisoner._

That’s how she got here. That day was all a blur of pain, and now it’s a little clearer, even if she doesn’t have the memories to back it up. Just a late walk that went awry. 

**Never accept gifts from a Fae**

_Be very careful with any gift you are given. If you don’t trust the faerie who gave you the gift, it’s best to destroy it. And never say thank you to a gift. It implies that you owe them something._

Rook drops the book. Let’s it slam to the floor as she lets out a low whine. She curls up on her bed, clawing at her head. She’s an idiot. They played her like a goddamn fiddle. And she thought she was safe. That if she did as they asked then they wouldn’t do anything bad to her. She’s not their prisoner—not yet, but this isn’t a luxury vacation. 

She needs to leave. She has to. There has to be a way out. Another mushroom circle maybe? Tonight. She’ll have to do it tonight when the door is unlocked and Joseph comes in to bring her dinner. That’s when she’ll do it, after lunch, as if nothing has changed. She’ll need time to think of a plan. She only has one shot. 

*****

Joseph comes at the same time he does every night. The click of a key sounds his arrival before he steps inside, balancing a plate in his hand as he shuts the door behind him. 

He doesn’t lock it though. He’s blocking her path, that’s all. He thinks that’s enough to stop her. 

“You ate lunch today,” he says in way of greeting. He smiles at her. Proud and glowing as he hands her the steaming plate. 

“I did. Yeah.” She hides her fear behind a shy smile. “I was hungry...I couldn’t keep starving myself.” She doesn’t let on that she regrets eating their food, that she knows they’ve tricked her. 

“I was hoping it’s because you trust us now.” 

She swallows, putting her dinner off to the side. In the back of her head she realizes that this is the longest he’s stayed before. That usually he’s in and out, no words passed between them. 

Rook needs to keep talking. 

“That’ll take time. Trust takes time.” She bows her head, “can you give me that?” 

“Yes. Yes, of course.” He rushes forward, kneeling down to grab her hands and stroke them. 

Briefly, so quick Joseph can’t process it, she glances at his wings. Figuring how to grab them, how to break them and hurt him. 

“You have all the time in the world, darling.” 

She breathes in deep. Steadies herself, and says a quick prayer. And she tackles him. She lands on top of him, just as he angles his body sideways. It works for her, gives her access to what she’s aiming for. Without regret she grabs his wing and yanks it towards her.

It twists with a crunch. Crumpling up in her fist. His wing spazzes and he screams. The appendage twitches in her grasp, trying to wrench away from her. His legs kick out, his entire body curling up on itself. 

He’s still yelling, a bloody scream like she’s killing him. And hell, just maybe it hurts that much, because she’s not letting go. When he tries to squirm away she tugs his wing towards her in the opposite direction. Ruining it. 

Finally she lets go, knowing his yell couldn’t have _not_ been heard. She’s up and running, opening the door and breezing through the halls until she finds the double set of doors that leads outside. For a second she thinks it won’t open, that for some reason they’ve now locked it. But it comes open without protest, allowing her to slip outside. 

It’s dark, pitch black, but that makes it better for her. Escaping is easier under the cover of nighttime, even if she’s got her hands out waving in front of her to keep from knocking into a tree. It’s slow going like that, but she’s going at least. Moving forward instead of hiding away inside of a prison of a room. 

She’s not sure if she can escape this world, Jacob said it’s impossible, the book he and Faith gave to her said that it’s impossible, but she can get away from Joseph. She doesn’t understand this place, but she’s riding on the hope that this land is large, that he and the fae court doesn’t rule the whole of it. 

She’ll find somewhere safe. Maybe someone who doesn’t want to kidnap people. 

Rook’s sure that she’s far away from that house, she hasn’t seen anything that suggests that somehow she’s rounded back. It gives her a surge of life, of hope beyond what she thought possible. And that’s when the alarms go off. 

It’s _loud._ A wailing siren that makes her jump so hard she falls to her knees. She cocks her head to the side, realizing that the noise is coming from behind her. Back the way she came. So she _is_ moving further away, and that makes her heart lighter. 

It doesn’t stop her from scrambling to her feet and rushing a little faster forward. Faster and faster until she hits chain link. 

“No.” Her hands curl in it. Rattling it. “No, no, no.” She goes a little bit to the left. To the right. Up and down. “Please don’t.” Her head falls forward. Shaking it. She’s fenced in. How the fuck did she not notice this? Why hadn’t she considered it? 

Rook has no choice but to move, she can only guess what the continuous blaring alarm means. She would assume that the whole of the fae community knows that she’s gone. 

She keeps her hand on the fence and moves right. There’s got to be an opening somewhere, a gate. She continuously scans the tree line, the forest beyond the chained barrier. Looking for something other than the same barren landscape. There’s nothing for miles that she can see. Nothing but woods and animals that dart through the trees. 

She’s about to glance around, aware that there’s a constant possibility of someone creeping up on her, but she swears that she sees—

“Wha…?”

Rook doesn’t know what she’s looking at. It’s bright though. Not just a mere flicker of a light. But something more. A beam of a bright fluorescent, flickering. Like a reflected piece of glass. It looks purposeful and like she should—

“Hey!” 

Rook freezes, stays deadly still, praying that’ll be enough to dissuade whoever’s behind her. Then a different kind of light is shining on her and she turns, shielding her eyes from the glare of a flashlight. It mutes out the light coming from behind her, in fact she thinks it’s gone now. 

“Thought I heard someone snooping.” 

The man standing before her is old. Old enough to be her father. His hair is graying and his wings aren’t doing any better. Age lines mark his face and wrinkles cover his arms. He doesn’t look strong, but he’s far more confident than her.

“You’re a human, eh?” 

He doesn’t sound angry. More inquisitive. Curious and tired at the same time if that were possible. 

“Well?” He prods when she doesn’t answer. “Can’t ya speak?” 

Rook manages a small “yes,” afraid to raise her voice above a whisper. 

“Huh. It’s been a while since one has been here.” He glances around them, as if just realizing the alarm. “So you’re the reason for all this ruckus.” He laughs when she nods. A hearty chuckle that makes her flinch back against the fence.

He takes a step forward when she isn’t looking, coming closer and closer, fingers tight around his flashlight. 

“They’ll search everywhere for ya. The court doesn’t want to be made to look stupid—they hate that. Especially if a human’s the one who did it to ‘em.” He’s steadily drawing near, and he’s reaching behind him, in his pocket, for something she can’t see in the dark. “Look girl, nowhere’s safe, at least not here, ya gotta go find—“

She pounces on him when he’s close enough. Running off of nothing but fear and adrenaline. She tries to go for his wings, the same way she did to Joseph that seemed so effective. He lands flat on his back though. And he stops moving immediately. Her hands brace on his shoulders, ready to over power him. But he doesn’t move. It takes her a moment to see the blood that’s steadily pouring out from his skull. That there’s a rock underneath him, where his head struck when he fell. When she pushed him back. 

“...oh.” It comes out as a tiny breath. Scared and soft. Her fingers curl in his shirt. Then she comes to the realization that she's straddling a dead man now. A man she killed. Her eyes stray upward. Where there’s something held tight in his fist. What he’d been going for in his pocket, what had scared her.

Car keys. 

Rook makes a move to get off him but something else gets to her first. A large hand grabs the back of her neck and she goes flying. She lands awkwardly on the ground, with her arm twisted under her at an angle that’s definitely not normal.

She yelps out of pain, trying to roll back to her feet when a shoe placed on her stomach stops her. 

“Good job, Jacob.”

It’s John on top of her. Keeping her in place with nothing but his foot. Jacob comes into view seconds later, clapping John on the back with a light nod of acknowledgement. 

Jacob’s the one who threw her. Strange, how he can so readily shift his thoughts on her. One moment sharing her company beside the house and giving her answers and the next moment he’s tossing her across the way without care. 

He’s loyal. She’ll give him that. 

“I’m disappointed, Rook. And angry.” John kneels down, removing his foot and placing a hand in the center of her stomach. The threat of that presence is enough to keep her down. “You betrayed my brother’s trust. Toyed with his emotions. Joseph had hope for you, he plead a very convincing argument to the court. You have a lot to answer for.”

“Especially when you kill one of our own,” Jacob interjects. “There’s plenty of ramifications for that. Isn’t there, John?”

John laughs darkly. “Of course. It's enough to be brought straight to the fae court. No jury, just us and her. Whatever we say goes.” He’s letting her know how fucked she is. That there’s no way out. 

Jacob looks at John, no pity in his eyes for her trembling form on the ground before him. “What do you want to do, John?” 

“Put her in a cell. We’ll convene in the morning. For now let’s put Mr. Patrick to rest. She’ll face ample punishment soon, of that I have no doubt.” 


	4. Captive

It’s an open and shut case, she never stood a chance. Not without a jury. With no representation on her part. It’s their word against hers. And her word never got her far in the past. Though maybe she wouldn’t be facing these consequences, hearing this verdict, if she hadn’t killed someone. If she didn’t break Joseph’s wing—the leader of this foolish court system. 

A man who is strangely absent, and she has to wonder how much damage she actually did. 

Standing in front of them, the center of attention, she’s afraid that she’ll pass out. That she’ll be sick listening to them list her transgressions, how difficult she’s been since she’s gotten here. 

She almost doesn’t hear their ruling. As badly as she’s dying to know—she’s more focused on what’s outside. What she can see through a stained glass window directly in front of her. Thinking back on it, she’s considering the possibility that she imagined what she saw. It should be the least of her worries, but she saw  _ something.  _

As she’s being led out of the court, Jacob’s hand around her bicep despite the cuffs John closed around her wrists, something catches in the light and blinds her for a second. It’s like a flare, shooting up into the air, but then she’s out of the courthouse and it’s all but forgotten about. 

“What happens now?” 

Jacob’s lip twitches, hand tightening around her arm. “Punishment first, for all the shit you’ve done.” 

Rook trembles, stumbling over her own feet before she’s being yanked along. “John said I was a prisoner now. Isn’t that punishment enough?” 

“You’re a prisoner, yeah. But you’ve gotta be trained, like yelling at a dog when it doesn’t do what you want. It’s yours, but it fucks up all the same. And you gotta correct that behavior.” 

Her throat bobs with a swallow, dread settling deep in her stomach, making breathing hard. She keeps her eyes skyward, focusing on the beautiful hues of the early morning sky. 

“So you’re going to correct my behavior?” 

“Yep.” 

She doesn’t ask how. They round a corner, walking past their house into the backyard and she doesn’t _ need  _ to ask how. It’s a cage. One too large for a house pet. Because it’s meant for her. Someone her size. A human. A prisoner. 

She digs her heels into the dirt, hand scrambling to hold onto Jacob’s arm. To tug at his jacket and start pleading. He doesn’t listen to her, he’s so much stronger. He grabs her shoulders and shoves her forward until she’s inside, slamming the barred door shut with a click of a key. 

“You’ll learn to stop fighting,” he tells her when neither of them speak. When it’s just her heavy breathing between them. “John will be here soon to carry out your punishment. Faith’ll come later with food.” 

He walks away after that. Disappearing out of sight. She hears the distinctive sound of the opening and closing of the front door, and maybe for the first time she regrets trying to escape. She should've waited. Planned out something more concrete. 

Now she’s paying the price. 

Rook sits down the best she can with her hands still handcuffed behind her. They’re too tight, cutting off circulation. They go numb not long after. She bows her head, considers trying to fall asleep despite how early it is. John ruins the moment, he’s good at that. 

“Oh, Rook, look at you darling.” He saunters over to her, a smile gracing his lips when her head jerks up. “Such a trapped little animal. Not so strong now, hm?”

She raises her chin, tries to seem strong. Her gaze falters though. “I never claimed to be strong.”

“No? You seemed mighty strong when you broke my brother’s wing the other night.” There’s a hint of bitterness in his voice. “This is the only place for you now, I suppose. A shame.” Though he says it like it’s anything but. “Joseph thought you’d be the one, that great things would become of you.”

_ The one.  _ He’s being vague on purpose. Fuck it, she’ll take the bait. “What does that mean? That I’ll do great things?” 

His lips raise in a snarl as he snaps out a curt “nothing. At least nothing that concerns you. Not anymore, you’ve only proven the rest of us to be correct about you.” He hesitates before walking closer. Hands wrapping boldly around the bars of the cage. He doesn’t crouch down to her level though, content to glare down at her. 

“Faith still thinks you're special, she’s trying to convince Joseph to give you another chance. Consider yourself lucky that she’s on your side.” 

“I’m trapped in a cage—you’re about to do god knows what to me—I’m the furthest thing from lucky.” 

He rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Things can be much worse for you.” He pauses, tilting his head, “in fact they will. Especially when the temperature drops tonight and you’re shaking, dying to be inside because the cold is seeping into your bones and you think you might not make it.” 

John seems pleased with himself when he catches the scared look in her eyes. He turns on his heel, bending down to grab something that’s been left propped up against the side of the house. 

“You’ll keep quiet, won’t you? Wouldn’t want to disturb anyone more than you already have.” 

When he straightens out it takes her a moment to realize what he’s holding. Then he turns a nozzle and a small trickle of water leaks out—

It’s just a hose. Just water. But what he said lingers in her mind.

“ _ Especially when the temperature drops tonight and you’re shaking.” _

“Wait. Wait, John.” She stands as quick as she can, falling back against the bars with a harsh clang that resonates through her body. “I’ll freeze.” 

He stares at her, blinking real slow. “Yes, you might.” Then he turns the water on her. And it’s frigid. Enough to make her yelp and try to dodge the stream, but wherever she goes, he follows. Dousing her from head to toe. Making sure every inch of her isn’t without it’s equal spray. 

Eventually she falls to the ground, directly on her tailbone. She’d be more focused on the pain that lances down her legs, but she’s trying not to drown on land. 

She loses track of how much time passes. It feels like forever, where her body is left shaking and her teeth begin chattering. Finally the water does fall away as John turns off the hose. There’s the sound of him rolling it back up, pushing it against the house where it originally was. 

“Have a nice day, Rook.” 

She closes her eyes, not wanting to see herself in the reflection of his baby blues. She’s sure she looks pathetic, playing the part of their prisoner well. 

Rook wishes more than ever that she had a watch. Just so she could know how long she hasn’t been home. She can’t quite hear what’s going on inside their house, she doesn’t know if someone’s preparing a meal, or if Joseph’s in his study or if John’s doodling like he’s apt to do. That’s how she normally tracks her day, intent on figuring out their schedule. 

The shadows shift at some point, and it’s then that she falls on her side, flexing her fingers behind her. Wondering if her hands will survive this. 

“Rook?” 

Rook doesn’t flinch when she hears Faith’s voice. She’s soft and kind—always—but she’s just as loyal as the rest of the Seeds. Rook isn’t sure Faith can be trusted to gripe to. 

But in her eyes is sympathy. Something that John and Jacob lacked before. It looks real enough. 

“Are you hungry?” 

Rook sits up slowly, making a show of it before she nods. She’s still shivering, clothes stuck uncomfortably to her body. 

“Here.” Faith pushes a tray under the bars. It’s not the kind of meal she had been fed while locked up behind the doors Joseph put her behind. It’s mush—potatoes maybe? With a plastic cup filled with water beside it. 

“My hands,” is all Rook says. Jerking her shoulder for emphasis.

Faith winces, leaning in to twist her partially around, producing a key from somewhere and letting the handcuffs fall away. 

Rook doesn’t touch her bruised wrists, she just shakes them out, stretching her finger and avoiding Faith’s gaze. 

Rook doesn’t touch the cup, no need to. She got more than her fill of water when John turned the hose on her. She is, however, starving. She shovels the food into her mouth, grateful for the plastic spoon she’d been given. She’s a prisoner, not a pet. All the whole Faith is silent, sitting on her knees despite how white and pristine her dress is. 

When she’s done she angrily shoves the tray back through. Wiping at her mouth with a sneer. She’s waiting for Faith to leave, to maybe even slap the cuffs back on her hands. She isn’t moving though, she’s just staring at Rook, glancing all around and frowning. 

For the first time Faith looks unsure. 

“I think you were afraid,” Faith finally says. “Like a cornered, hurt animal who lashes out. You didn’t know we were trying to help you. You didn’t know what we were going to do to you, right?”

Rook’s brow scrunches, and finally she looks at Faith directly. It takes a moment for it to click, for her to realize that Faith is feeding her the appropriate lines. Words that Faith hopes will get her out of this situation. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Rook agrees after a while. “I didn’t mean to come here, and when I did…” she shrugs helplessly, “no one told me a thing. I thought I was going to be hurt.” 

“Joseph needs to learn to explain things better. This is the third time—“

“Faith!” 

For Faith’s credit she doesn't flinch. She doesn’t act guilty when she glances over her shoulder and sees Jacob coming their way. She stands her ground, carefully rising to meet Jacob head on, staring him down despite being so much smaller than him. 

“You were supposed to give her food then come right back in, we need all the help we can get with Joseph.” 

Rook hadn’t planned on listening too intently, expecting more squabbling, Jacob trying to act tough and scary, but this is far more interesting. 

Joseph. She hadn’t seen or heard about Joseph since last night, when she pounced on him and destroyed his wing. She had wanted to ask about him, but it never seemed like the right time. 

“You’re supposed to grab his meds, not be talking to her.” Jacob shifts, hands falling to his hips. “He’s our brother,” he mumbles gently, and Rook notices how his wings twitch. A tell to something she can’t read. “He needs help to get better.” 

Faith does seem to soften at that. Hands wringing in front of her as she nods sporadically. 

“You’re right, yeah…” she hesitates though, not going past Jacob to wherever a fae would normally collect medicine. 

Jacob sighs loudly, “what is it, Faith? What’s on your mind?”

“Maybe not now, Joseph should focus on his recovery, but we need to talk about his methods for—“ she gestures back to where Rook is caged. “He can’t keep doing this. Leader of the court or not, it isn’t right. I understand he’s passionate, that he only wants the best…” she trails off, staring up at Jacob hopefully. 

He scratches his beard, finally looking at Rook. Acknowledging what he’s done to her. 

“He’s gone too far, Jacob. And as a family it’s our job to pull him back.”

“Sure, we can talk, but she—“ Jacob’s lip twists, pointing roughly in Rook’s direction. “Isn’t getting out. The court has already made their decision.” 

Faith doesn’t react the way Rook would think, she isn’t mad. She doesn’t fight back, she doesn’t even look demure—not scared. it just proves how little Rook knows about this family. 

Her wings flutter excitedly and she smiles. “I guess that’s life, huh, Jacob?” She sighs, playing with the hem of her dress, “if we can’t save this one, then let’s try for the next one.” 

They both seem to agree on that. He winds an arm around her shoulder, that strong familial bond returning so easily as he pulls her along. Jesting with her in words too quiet for Rook to hear. 

And she’s left dumbfounded. Faith doesn’t care about Rook, the same way Jacob doesn’t. They love each other, they’re so fucking loyal it makes her head hurt. At the end of the day Faith only cares about her brother, about Joseph’s “methods” and how they’re affecting his health. Mental or otherwise. Faith doesn’t care about her, she just planned on using her as an example.

If Rook’s going to get out of here, she’ll have to do it herself. 

*****

She wakes up to Joseph hovering over her the next day. He isn’t standing back like she’d suspect, he’s inside the cage with her, crouched down and literally hovering. Like a vulture. 

She flinches back into the dirt, scrambling to get up on her elbows, to maybe put some distance between them. Joseph allows it. Watching her with narrowed eyes. 

He’s scarily quiet. Not as enigmatic now, and she has a feeling that it has nothing to do with hurt pride. 

“Joseph?” 

He blinks at her, lips twisting before he reaches out and cups her cheek. He draws her near like that, fingernails biting into her dirty skin. 

“Jacob wants you to be trained. It worked last time.” He swallows, collecting his thoughts. “The last prisoner we had fit in well, she listened to us. Did as told when I figured out that she was unworthy, though I knew that all along.” 

“I thought the last person to visit was male? Fifteen years ago?”

Joseph tips his head, a sardonic smile donning his lips. “The last person visited fifteen years ago, not the last prisoner. That was recently, maybe five years now.” 

Rook bites back her smile, at the hope that blooms up inside her chest at the prospect that she’s not alone. She hasn’t seen another human, or a prisoner for that matter, but she doubts they’d show her that. Now though, just maybe she’ll be able to work alongside this girl. Maybe that’s her way out. 

She grabs Joseph by the wrist and drags him down, still feeling the imprint of his touch on her skin. 

“How do you train someone?” She asks boldly, squeezing his wrist tight. 

“Through time. I won’t force it. You just follow my lead, do as I ask.” 

He stands quickly, making her head dizzy when she jerks her neck back to follow him. There’s a brilliant shine of sunlight creating a halo around him, making him look otherworldly. Which makes her think…

“John said that you thought I was chosen for something. That I’m special.” She stands when she speaks, intent on being eye level—as much as she can—he’s about a foot taller than she is. 

“He shouldn’t have told you that,” it’s all he says, turning around and expecting her to follow. “That shouldn’t be something you concern yourself with.” 

Rook’s tempted to keep her mouth shut. To be the obedient dog like they expect her to. But she doesn’t see the point, not if yesterday’s punishment was as bad as it gets. She’s alive, the sun eventually dried her clothes. She can handle more. 

She jogs to keep up with him, only taking a cursory glance at his wings. Not clearly seeing if they’re as bad as his siblings made them out to be. 

“I just want to understand.” 

Joseph sighs, chin held high and not glancing her way. “You won’t believe me if I tell you, no human ever does. They call me crazy, say I’m a lunatic. I’d rather not go through that again.” 

She’s already shaking her head, “I won’t say a thing. I’ll just listen.” 

Joseph is walking her further into the woods, somewhere she doesn’t recognize. She doesn’t show interest in their surroundings, a show of good faith. She won’t run. Not again. 

Not yet. 

“Later. Maybe.” He frowns, as if he already regrets what he’s said. “If you’re good.”

“If I’m good,” she repeats slowly, only stopping when he does. Almost bumping into him. She now takes note of where they are. Craning her neck to look at the towering building surrounded by trucks that are being unloaded as they stand there. 

“Yes. Earn my trust again.” He crosses his arms over his chest, reminding her of Jacob. “For now you’ll work.” 

And work she does. Tirelessly and seemingly fruitlessly. She takes boxes from the beds of trucks and moves them to the outside of the building where someone else collects them. They’re not human, their wings standing out clear as day. 

But it makes her wonder what their legal system is like when you’re a fae. If everything is just and fair or if you’re as likely to be screwed as she was.

Maybe they’re criminals, serving out some sort of sentence through manual labor. They certainly aren’t dressed any sort of way, but they look at her as if they’re surprised. Like they’ve seen a ghost. 

At one point she sees a man speak to Joseph, his head bowed but gaze so piercing that it matches his leaders. He’s speaking with wild gesticulations, at one point daring to grab ahold of Joseph’s arm. 

She wants to watch, but she’s busy trying to impress Joseph. He’s keeping an eye on her despite giving his attention to the man standing in front of him. 

She works until the last of the boxes are gone and Joseph grabs her from behind, stopping her. He doesn’t say a word, just crooks his finger for her to follow. 

Rook waits for him to comment on her performance, to tell her that she’s done a good job, to continue their last conversation and tell her why he thought she was chosen. Why he had such an interest in her from the beginning. But he’s strangely silent as he leads her back. He doesn’t say a word as he puts her back in her cage and locks the door. 

There’s a moment of hesitation before he leaves, and she takes that chance. She grabs his wrist and tugs him forward.

“You’re wing...is it...does it hurt?”

He opens his mouth, eyebrows pinching, but no noise comes out. 

“I know I hurt you then, but is it okay now?” She still remembers his scream, how he felt writhing under her. 

“It’s healing. Just a tad sore, you didn’t rip it.” His lips curl into a smile she hadn't expected. “I’m far from dying.”

Rook hadn’t suspected that much, but maybe he thinks that she’s dense. That she only sees him as a bird who breaks his wing and can’t go on. 

“It’s hard to kill a fae, you know? They’re practically immortal.”

He’s teasing her, it’s a taunt. A way to show off. And it works as far as scaring tactics go. Not like she wants to resort to murder, but she’d be lying if she said the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. If that’s what it takes to get out of here…

She’d throw away her humanity in a heartbeat. 

“You sleep well now, Rook.” 


	5. Chosen

She’s exhausted, dead on her feet from working beside Joseph in a field of crops that seemed to stretch on for miles. She doesn’t bother trying to fight Joseph when she stands behind him, swaying on her feet, as he unlocks her cage. 

Her eyes run the length of his wings. The  tip of the left one has lost its color, and she has a feeling she’s to blame for that one. He isn’t moving around gingerly anymore though, so it must be healing. 

He isn’t going quickly however, just as tired as she is. The keys shake in his grip, jangling loudly in the otherwise quiet of the night. She’s about to ask him if he wants her to do it, to make some sort of jab because she’s  _ tired  _ and at this point she doesn’t give a shit that she’s a prisoner. She just needs some sleep. 

But he falls before she can say a thing. 

He lets out a bloodcurdling scream as he goes down. And oh boy does he go down. Hard. His head thunks against the bars and he curls up on his side, fingers scrambling for purchase.

Rook is beside him in an instant, more out of shock than anything. She doesn’t touch him, afraid that she’ll hurt him. Because he’s still making these horrible pained noises in the back of his throat like someone is actively stabbing him. 

“Joseph?” Her voice cracks and she glances around, knowing full well that if anyone heard his initial scream and found him like this then they’d blame her. 

Not like he has any sort of injury. He just...fell. 

She finally musters up the courage to touch him. She holds onto his shoulder and shakes. “Joseph!” There’s an edge of panic that even she can hear. She should hate him, despise this man who trapped her here and forced her hand into murder and who is so intent on keeping secrets. But he’s better than his brothers, and it’s hard to ignore a man in so much pain.

Her other hand moves to his cheek and finds the wetness of tears. That contact has him rolling over towards her, he blindly grasps until he can hold onto her dirtied shirt. His grip is bruisingly tight as he shakes apart. 

“It’s okay,” she soothes, unsure of what else to say. “It’s fine. You’re fine, Joseph.” She carries on like that, glancing around every so often and wondering how the hell they haven’t woken anyone. 

It takes ten minutes until he comes back to himself. It’s a slow process of him blinking wearily and groaning as he sits up. He doesn’t seem embarrassed as he pushes away from her, shocked and scared, yes, but his cheeks lack the pinkness of shame. 

“Rook—oh, Rook, I saw it.” 

Her nose crinkles, eyebrows furrowing deeply at his words, but he continues, ignoring her confusion as he gets up on his knees in front of her. 

“God told me,” he shakes a finger at her, a hand falling to her shoulder as a sob rips its way up his chest. “He showed me how wrong I was...I’m sorry, my Lord. I thought I knew. I didn’t think she—“ his throat closes around his words and he folds himself in half so that his head is almost resting in her lap. 

“I’m not making much sense, am I?” 

“Not really,” she breathes, fingers clenching around the dirt. 

He laughs, it’s bitter and quiet. “You said you wanted to understand.”

“And you said I’d think you were a lunatic.”

He nods, “yes. Most humans do, but that’s only because they aren’t chosen. They’re envious wretches.” 

All at once she gets it.  _ Chosen.  _ Chosen by God himself through Joseph’s muddled head. It makes sense why his family protects him so fiercely. He isn’t right upstairs, even by fae standards this isn’t normal. 

“I thought you were, God didn’t speak to me directly then, but I had hoped so badly that you were different. Then you tried to run, you attacked me and you killed a man and I realized that once again I was wrong.” 

He shuffles forward, grabbing her cheeks in his hands. His thumb swipes back and forth as he gazes into her eyes. He looks so broken. More vulnerable than she’s ever seen him. 

He draws their foreheads together, breathing heavy and uneven. Her heart clenches in both fear and sympathy. 

“I had a vision from God. They’re often painful and violent, but it’s worth it for Him. And he showed me I was wrong, that you  _ are  _ chosen. I’m so sorry I’ve treated you this way when you’ve been so clearly given to me as a gift.” 

He chuckles, drawing back and smiling so wide at her. 

“I’ve been waiting for the right human for so long.”

Her stomach drops and she tips her head, hiding her fear well. “For what?”

“When I was a young man God showed me the importance of bridging the divide between the fae world and the human one. I just needed to find the right human, and now you’re here, finally. The other half of this puzzle is you.”

His lips twist into a smile when she doesn’t immediately denounce him. Something she’s sure has happened with every single person to come here. Whether he keeps them or not.

There’s a nervousness behind his eyes though, they’re darting around and he’s taking in sweeping lungfuls of air. He stands on shaky feet, pressing a hand to his temple. 

She follows suit, pushing down the urge to step back when he grabs her forearm. 

“You’ll sleep inside from now on. You’ll want for nothing, Rook.” He smiles again, “you’re special, whether you realize that or not.”

*****

Their screaming wakes her up, and she can’t help but be annoyed. Even if she doesn’t deserve that right. This isn’t her home, but Joseph sure as hell made it clear that she was meant to sleep. 

“You can’t do that to her--to anyone--Joe, it’ll kill her. For fuck’s sake it isn’t even possible.”

“I wish you had faith in me like John does. He believes that I wouldn't do him wrong.”

Rook tiptoes out of bed where she pushes her ear against their adjoining wall, where she now knows Joseph sleeps. At some point in the night Jacob must’ve woken him to talk about the same issue he spoke of with Faith. That he’s gone too far, that they need to pull him back. Except Joseph is...Joseph. He’s stubborn and as she recently learned, very intent on carrying out God’s plan.

She hears Jacob sigh, and she can imagine him running a hand through already messy hair in consternation before he speaks. “I believe in a lot of things you say, Joseph. I’ve been by your side since the beginning. But this, experimentation? You can’t. It won’t work.” 

“It’s God’s will. I can’t disobey Him, I already have by disregarding the one He’s chosen, I can’t _ not _ follow through. That’ll garner more punishment. Because God is nothing if not wrathful, however forgiving.”

“Joe--”

“Leave. I need time to prepare and if you won’t help then I ask you to leave.”

Rook takes a step back from the wall, convinced that someone will come barging in and catch her eavesdropping. Though she feels it’s justified, it’s her they're talking about after all. 

She goes back to bed, curled up beneath soft sheets content with the knowledge that the door isn’t locked. She doesn’t know how Joseph intends to bring the fae world and hers together, or how that involves her, but she trusts so fully that things are going to be different for her. Maybe being chosen by God has its perks.

*****

He wants her to trust him. To have trust in this process and in God. She can’t, she’s shaking so badly that it takes multiple tries for Joseph to tie her hands and legs down. The metal table she’s lying on is freezing, especially in the tank top and shorts he had her dress in.

Her face is tipped to the side to avoid suffocating, she wonders briefly if asking if she can lie on her back instead would work. 

Joseph talks as he flutters around her, pulling up a chair and a metal rolling tray. Placing sharp objects on it and syringes filled with liquids of various colors. She’s not sure if his words are meant to soothe her, and it takes her a minute to realize that he’s explaining things. 

“If I turn you into a fae, into one of us, and I attempt to send you back...I’m hoping that will work. That it will allow us into your world the same way you can come into ours. We’ll be welcome, we can walk among you and in a few years time it will be nothing but normal. We’ll build something grande."

He glances at her from where she’s craning her head around to look at him. He frowns and rushes to cup her cheek, “you’ve gone pale.”

She swallows audibly. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Did I not explain it right?”

“You did...H-how though? I thought--I mean...J-John said that you can’t turn someone into a fae.” He hadn’t, not exactly. When she asked he only laughed at her, giving her some non answer;  _ ‘wouldn’t you like to know?’ _

Joseph tips his head in consideration with a soft huff of air. He doesn’t look angry, just thoughtful. It doesn't help her fear.

“It hasn’t happened yet, but perhaps it wasn’t meant to just yet.” 

He seems so sure, so overzealous that she wonders how on earth he came to lead anything. Now isn’t the time to ask, when she’s shaking out of her skin and straining against leather straps that are starting to chafe. 

Joseph produces a box that’s covered in a yellowed sheet—it smells—that’s the first thing she notes. The second being how carefully he handles it. Like it’s a bomb waiting to go off. 

“Joseph…” 

“Hush, Rook, I’ll try to make this as painless as possible.” He grabs a syringe and she sees his fingers go white from how tight he’s holding it. Nervous. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. 

He hasn’t experimented on anyone before. She’s the first. She’ll probably die. 

Fuck. 

A whimper escapes her lips as he presses the tip of the needle to the soft skin of her throat. He only uses half, and it becomes shockingly clear as to why. He doesn’t intend for her to be asleep. 

“It’ll hurt,” she slurs, confident in her assessment. 

“I’m trying to avoid that.” He puts the syringe down and grabs for a scalpel. “But I’d like you awake so you can tell me what you’re feeling, if anything goes wrong, if you feel different, inhuman.”

“Pain.” She mumbles, half delirious. “I’ll feel pain.” 

“Let’s pray not.” 

She closes her eyes and tips her head the other way, away from him. She doesn’t want to see him work. To see what he’s about to do to her. 

It won’t be good—she has a feeling it won’t work. 

“Stay still. I don’t want to mess this up.” 

He yanks her shirt up and a smile tugs at his lips. She listened to his instructions beforehand, when she didn’t know what she was getting into. So she didn’t wear a bra as per his request. She didn’t know why he didn’t want the fabric in the way, she still doesn’t.

The cool press of something against her back makes her jump. He shushes her and she realizes that it’s only a marker. He’s making short dashes, marking something. 

He goes slowly, methodically. Occasionally he wipes away a streak and draws it again. Patience never ending. And all the while she’s left floating in this weird in-between state of wakefulness and death. 

It’s when she feels the sharpness of a scalpel that she whines. 

The pain is intense. It’s sudden and comes without any sort of warning. It’s possibly the worst pain she’s ever felt. The straps keep her down and she writhes and screams. 

He’s cutting her, peeling away layers of skin. And she can’t help but turn her head to look at him. It’s strange to see blood on his hands, for him to look so concentrated while slicing into her body. 

“You’re doing well,” he tells her when he draws away, leaving a perfectly piece of flayed skin peeled back like the top layer of a box. “This will hurt a little more, darling.” 

Her eyes widen minutely when he takes off the off colored sheet covering the box. She feels the need to scream. To call out for help even though she knows no one will come. He can’t do this, he’ll kill her.

Where the fuck did he even get those things? 

They’re wings. A neat pair of them that must’ve been ripped from someone’s body because the smell that’s been invading her nose is blood and sinew. The smell of decay. 

“You’ll be left with a scar, I’m no doctor.” 

She laughs weakly, she doubts that any doctor here would be able to do something like this anyway. 

The pain doubles tenfold when he tries to attach this appendage that should never meld with a human in the first place. She can’t breathe, she can’t think, the drugs don’t help at all. 

She squirms and snarls when he places a hand on her tailbone to quiet her down. It doesn’t work, it just makes a sudden rush of tears fall. 

She isn’t sure how long it takes, but he goes just as slowly as before, letting out a pleased breath of air when he’s finished with the first one. Rook isn’t sure she’ll be able to deal with another. 

“Joseph,” she coughs out, hand twitching when she feels the press of a scalpel on her back again. “Joseph please wait. Give me a minute.” 

He frowns, bringing a bloody hand up to brush through her hair. “I wish I could, but these wings can’t be kept fresh forever. They’ll wither and die if not given a new host.” 

Her laugh is watery when he peels back her skin again. He does have the decency to shoot her up with the other half of the dose when her scream reaches a crescendo. She doubts these wings will accept her, they're not meant to be.

She can’t move when he’s done. Everything hurts and she can’t move. For a second she fears that he’s paralyzed her. 

“For the next few weeks I’ll be giving you medication, shots that will hopefully stop your body from rejecting your wings entirely.” He catches her weary eyed stare and bends down to stare directly at her. “Think of them as hormone shots. It will trick your mind into thinking you’re a fae until your body starts acting the right way.” He pets her hair and smiles, “you’re a perfect little hybrid. And you’re the answer to all my problems.” 


	6. Aftermath

They’re infected. The deep blue they started as have gone a pale, sickly green. The tips of them are splitting open, threatening to crumble. 

They radiate heat when she hovers her hand over them, which doesn’t nearly give way to how much they hurt. The pain makes sleep impossible, no matter which way she turns they throb and send sparks of electricity through her back and down her arms.

If she didn’t know any better she would think she was going to die. Joseph tells her otherwise, the doctors tell her otherwise, but even she can see the barely contained panic in their eyes. How they look at her with a mixture of sympathy and fear. Some with awe, maybe wondering how the hell she’s alive. Or maybe Joseph shares his visions with the other faes, maybe some are like him and believe she really is from God. That she’s divine.

“Didn’t I tell you to lie down?”

She jumps at the sound of Jacob’s voice. It lacks the familial warmth Joseph’s now has. Jacob treats her the same way he always has. It doesn’t matter if she’s a random human who happened upon them, their prisoner, or God’s chosen one. He’s following his brother, but he doesn’t care for her, she knows that. 

Sometimes though, moments right now, where he’s guiding her back into bed and tucking the covers tightly around her body, she sees a sadness inside him. 

It’s the way he refuses to look at her wings, won’t even touch them. It’s different from how Joseph preens over them, how he runs his fingertips through them and shushes her when she yelps from the pain. 

“You need to rest,” he tells her, lips twisting when she squirms. A shudder racking through her body when another tremor of pain grabs her. “Joseph wants to move quickly, he’s...eager.”

Rook doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t take the food he offers and doesn’t say yes when he asks if she wants any more pillows. She does, however, grab his wrist when he’s about to leave. 

“Eager for what?” 

Jacob considers her, fingers flexing but not prying her away. “To get to the human world. He’s convinced that everything will be so much better when he’s there.”

She laughs at that, slightly hysterical. He did this to her, ruined her life, all for what? Because  _ he  _ deserves a better life. He’s a child, selfish and short minded from what she can tell. It’s not for God or for his family or even his people. It’s for him. 

“He’s gonna be dissapointed,” she snaps, falling back when Jacob finally shakes her off. She’s careful not to land on her wings. She’s learned how badly that hurts. “What’s so great about my home?” 

Jacob shrugs, leaning on the wall across from her. “He wasn’t raised well, none of us were. We had it rough. And there are faes Joseph sees around here that have it like we did. They’re forgotten about, abused and neglected and he doesn’t want that. He’s got it in his head that he can make things work if he were somewhere else…a new beginning of sorts. A new eden.” Jacob pauses, scratching his beard in a way she’s learned in a nervous tic. His wings flutter at the same time, stretching out before pulling tight to his spine. 

He catches her staring and sighs. That same look of pity falling across his face. “Can you move them?” 

“No.”

“Have you tried?”

She wants to laugh, but even the mention of her wings makes them throb. “I guess. It’s like someone sewing an arm on your side. You wouldn’t know how to use it,” she snorts, “you wouldn’t be able to. Because it’s impossible. You know that,” she adds softly. 

“Joseph’s been planning this for years. He’s got all sorts of needles and creams, he thinks he knows what he’s doing, that he’s got just the right concoction of medicine that’ll get your brain moving those wings.” 

Rook tries to figure Jacob out, to stare into his eyes and see if he believes what his brother preaches. If he thinks that this will work. But he leaves before she can get anything. 

It’s strangely quiet after he’s gone. And she finds herself, like on most days, missing the company. She dreads the moment when Joseph comes to visit her—any minute now—because she knows what will follow. How he’ll try to do his own little session of physical therapy that will leave her even more broken than before. 

Not that Joseph sees it that way. He thinks he’s doing God’s work. 

Her head falls back against the mound of pillows and she cranes her neck to look outside the window to her left. It’s beautiful out, almost startlingly so. At first glance, one would think it’s better than Hope county, even the whole of Montana. 

She doesn’t want to think of what Joseph will do to the world, what a whole new race of mythical beings will do. She doesn’t want to think about what will happen to Joseph’s mental state when he learns that he’s wrong. That the voice in his head isn’t God at all and that her world has its own set of horrors. 

So she doesn’t think. She closes her eyes and falls into a fitful sleep. 

*****

The injections are the worse part. He calls them hormones, tells her they’re magical, that it’ll turn her. Make her wings not completely useless, that she’ll have powers like all faes do. 

They make her sick. She’s throwing up colors that should not be coming out of her body and she’s shaking nonstop. Feeling like her skin needs to come off. 

Rook has a feeling she might die. And she can’t, she can’t die here. She can’t leave this crazy world, but if she’s going out it’s on her own terms. If she's going to die, she’ll choose  _ where _ at least. 

They owe her that much, but she’s not naive, she knows Joseph won’t let her go. That he’ll work her body right until it gives out.

Escaping is stupid, she’s done it once before and killed a man, but now, she has leverage. Joseph is on her side. It makes putting a gun to his brother’s head all the more easier.

John doesn’t visit her often. He claims he’s busy, that he’s a lawyer and there’s always things he needs to attend to. But on the days he stops by, it’s an event, and Joseph always lets her know in advance. 

He usually spends his time chattering on about his day, like no one else listens to him. As if he doesn’t spend said day prancing around in a courtroom where people are expected to do exactly that. 

She doesn’t let him get that far. He’s gotten two steps into her room and she pounces. She finds his gun where it always is, tucked inside his jeans on his left side, and she presses it to the soft underside of his chin. 

“Rook, what a surprise.” 

There’s a swell of anger that rises up from within her chest at how nonchalant he is. How uncaring. She could shoot him right now—

“That won’t kill me, you know. It will hurt, but I won’t die.” 

“I—“

He chuckles softly, as if she’s a child playing games that he doesn’t have time for. “We’ve told you this before, my dear. Faes are hard to kill.” He smiles at her, “now give me back my gun and tell me what has you so upset.”

The laugh she lets out in response is slightly hysterical. “I’m dying.” She presses the gun in further and he tries winces 

He shifts on his feet, his spine coming flush with the door. He looks slightly uncomfortable for the first time. She sees his fingers twitch by his side, like he wants to touch her. 

“You’re not. Joseph said—“

“He’s wrong! I’m dying, I…” she swallows, scared, “I don’t want to die here. Trapped in this room.”

His eyes go wide with surprise, and finally he brings his hand up to grab her. He rests it gingerly on her shoulder with a squeeze. “You’re not trapped at all.” His voice has dropped to a whisper, and he’s gained this intensity she’s never seen in him before. All that anger he once had for her is gone. “You can wander all you like. The doors aren’t locked.”

His gaze flicks back to her wings and it dawns on her. Why his wrath isn’t showing. 

“You know Joseph isn’t crazy, right?” He murmurs, his other hand coming up to wrap around her wrist and pull the gun away from him until it points towards the floor. “The thing he did to you...it’s a lot, I get that, it’s unheard of. I realize that you’re dealing with it the best anyone could expect. But you’re not dying. And my brother’s right, despite what Jacob and Faith are trying to do.”

Her lip twitches, and she has to ask, even if she already knows the answer. “What are they doing?”

“Sabotaging his plans. Saying that he’s gone too far, that they’ve let this continue for too long. Joseph speaks to God, He shows my brother things and how he needs to help the faes and Joseph is only doing what God asks of him. We all want the same thing here.”

“Do we?” She steps back, his gun still held loosely in her hand. He doesn’t make any moves to take it back, she’s got him going now. 

“Yes, we most definitely do. You want to go home and we want to go to your world as well. That’s the end goal here, my dear. He plans on sending you back because you’ll be our link to the other side. It’ll work, but not if you keep running off.” 

She dips her head and glares at him, “I thought you trapped me here forever.” 

“We did. But we have the power to send you back if we so please.” 

She isn’t easily fooled, she’s never been that way. Her ensemble never consisted of rose colored glasses. But here, living like this, things have changed.  _ She  _ changed. And she hates that she’s only realizing this now as she backs away until she collapses against her bed and tears crowd her eyes. 

“I’m scared, John.” 

“I know,” he approaches her carefully, kneeling in front of her with a frown, “but you’ll listen to me, won’t you? You’re a part of this plan, you’re meant to be here. Just let it happen.”

“And I’ll be able to go home?” 

She sounds like a child even to her own ears. But that’s all she wants now, to see her friends and sleep in her own bed. To stop living in fear. 

She wants to go home so fucking badly that she was willing to shoot John. 

That’s not who she is. Everything is all muddled inside her head, and she wants to explain it all away because this situation isn’t normal. This is traumatic and would give anyone a healthy dose of PTSD, and yet she’s crying. Letting this maniac who just a few weeks ago treated her like garbage run a soothing hand between her wings to calm her down. 

He helps her settle into bed and pull the blankets up around her. He watches her shift and squirm as her wings scream out with pain, looking for a comfortable position. She doesn’t find one, she never does. 

There’s a brief pause where he just lingers, staring at her motionless form. “Give it a few weeks, Rook. You’ll be the fae God wants you to be in no time.” 

His words don’t comfort her, they leave her feeling scared and lonely. Making her wonder if she can ever go back home. Who’s going to want the monster Joseph’s made her? 

She’s broken, tainted. She’s better off trying to become a fae, to accept the injections Joseph’s been giving her, to actually try and move her wings. If she’s changing, she has to accept it. 


	7. Coming Along

It’s a whole other month before she starts to feel normal again. When her fever slows to a crawl and her wings don’t burn anymore. It  _ is  _ something magical, how they look so fitting bordering her spine, like she was born with them. 

“Can you move them for me one more time?” 

Joseph’s staring at her with awe in his eyes, a hand hovering over her left wing before he jerks back with a surprised laugh when she flutters them. 

She hates it. 

But the praise that comes when she does as asked—it almost makes it all worth it. Something primal lights up inside her brain and she has to reassure herself that it’s not her fault for seeking out his words of love. It’s probably the start of Stockholm syndrome. 

“Perfect,” he breathes out, “you’re amazing, Rook.” 

He steps back to look at her more thoroughly, and if he senses her unease he doesn’t care. Her hands curl into fists in her lap as he stares at her. She’s tempted to ask if they’re done now, if she can go back home, if what John had said was true, but he starts talking before she can get a word in edgewise. 

“Did you know that faes have...what would humans call them? Powers, I guess?” His lips quirk into a mocking smile. 

Rook frowns, chin tipping up, “I wasn’t aware, no.”

He nods, falling back on the bed beside her with a hum. His hand falls to her thigh and he caresses the skin her dress doesn’t cover. 

“We’re taught how to use them very young. And before I connect our worlds, I’d think it very important for you to learn about them.” 

She laughs, anger seeping into it. She wants to believe that he’s lying to her. Or call him crazy for thinking she’d be able to pull something like that off. 

“I’m human,” is all she can manage. “It sounds like you’re trying to...change me completely. Make me into a fae.”

He snorts, head dipping in an uncharacteristic display of humility. His hand stays on her thigh though, still rubbing her skin. “Well what else would I be doing? That’s the only way this can work—I’m sure of it. You need to be a mixture, I was hoping you could be more human than fae...but I don’t think you’d survive the trip back if you weren’t a fae.” His bright eyes look up and meet her own, searing into her soul. “This needs to be done.”

“Because God told you so?”

His nostrils flare and he stands so suddenly she gets whiplash just trying to track him. 

“Yes. Yes, that’s exactly why.” He takes a few steadying breaths, rocking on the heels of his feet before he smiles wide and looks back at her. “I think we should begin right now, just to see if you can do anything special.” 

Special turns out to be a number of things that are so out of her realm of thinking that she doesn’t even know where to begin when Joseph asks her to perform. 

He shows her what he can do and wants her to repeat after him.  _ Expects _ her to repeat after him. 

He takes a knife out from the waistband of his jeans and tilts it in his hands. Weighing it carefully and watching her squirm before he blessedly takes it to his own skin. He cuts a line across his wrist where the bone juts out and holds it for her to see. 

“Very few faes can use touch to heal, most use ointments we’ve made or food we’ve prepared. It’s worth a shot thought.” 

She watches him lay a single finger across the cut and it’s—

It’s gone. She blinks and can’t hold back the little gasp that leaves her lips. Joseph looks exceptionally pleased with himself, like a child showing off their throwing arm for the first time. It’s as if he’s never had the chance to show off. 

He swipes away the excess blood on his jeans and waits for her to speak. It takes her a couple tries, unsure what someone would even say in such a situation. 

She blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, “what are the chances that I’ll be able to do that?” 

“Slim. But I want you to try.”

Turns out she can’t do what Joseph did. He cuts himself again, the same place as before, and holds out his skin like before, giving her a canvas to work on. 

He didn’t even seem to  _ do  _ anything to get it to heal. He didn’t say anything or exert any energy. It just happened. He touched it and it healed over. Leaving no trace. 

Rook wants to tell him that this can’t possibly be how young faes learn these tricks. There has to be an explanation given, but she doesn’t know his land, they could have the same logic that goes along with throwing a baby bird from its nest and knowing it will eventually get wind under its wings and fly. 

So she does the same thing he did. Gingerly she lays her fingers down on his cut and applies a soft amount of pressure, glaring at the offending wound when nothing happens at all.

Her breath stutters as she feels his eyes on her and he sighs. “Not that one then.” 

She’s about to defend herself, to ask him to give her more time, but he pulls back and heals it himself. 

He leans back on the bed again, brows pinched and thinking before he brightens up and grabs her shoulder. “Illumination,” he snaps his fingers comically, “lets try that one.” 

When she doesn’t give him anything but a blank stare he elaborates. Speaking animatedly, like she’s already done some grand feat that’s amazed him. He’s probably still riding off the high when he learned that her wings are now under her control. 

“It’s self explanatory,” he tells her, “you use your body to generate light, light strong enough to brighten an entire room.” 

There’s a beat of silence when he pulls back and just watches her. She tips her head, fingers drumming out a tune on her thigh. 

“Can you...show me?” 

His eyes widen and he ducks his head, a soft laugh bubbling up out of his throat. “I can’t do that. Actually, John can!” He quickly amends when she deflates. 

“John isn’t here.” 

“No...no he isn’t. He’s busy, hasn’t been over in a while…don’t know why.” He shakes his head and focuses back on her. “But this is just practice, darling. If you can’t do it today, we can try again tomorrow.”

She’s not quite sure she can have the same amount of faith he does. It sure as hell sounds like wistful thinking, but she doesn’t know enough to refute it. 

Her lips twist and she nods, closing her eyes to focus and she instantly feels silly. Joseph’s watching her, a hand placing over her own as he sits beside her. He’s staring deep into her—into her soul it feels like—as if he’s probing around inside her body. 

She dips her head, tucking it in close to her chest. She tries to find something inside her, something that didn’t exist before Joseph, but she doesn’t know what she’s looking for. Or if she’d feel anything at all. 

Rook bites down on her lip when nothing happens at all. 

“It’s okay, my darling, there’s plenty of other—“

“Shut up.”

Her lips form in a thin line, grim determination setting over her. She needs this to work because this will get her home, doing as Joseph asks, being more fae than human. She has to do this. 

But she can’t. All the muscles in her body, once tense, now go lax. She falls back against the bed with a defeated sigh. Relishing for just a moment when her wings fold seamlessly against her spine. She flinches when Joseph touches her cheek, lying down beside her with an arm across his stomach. 

“Let’s try resistance,” he whispers between them, “it doesn’t require you to do a thing. It should just happen.”

“Yeah,” she huffs, rubbing her eyes, “yeah sure, should be easier, right?” 

Joseph stares at her for a moment longer, moving to stand and waiting for her to seat properly again. When she rights herself she sees that he’s got the bloodied knife in his hand again. 

“This will hurt, I won’t lie, but that’s the only way to test it.”

Rook nods, she knows pain like an old friend by now. She’d go as far to say that it’s comforting. 

“You can do it yourself.” He offers her the blade, head cocked to the side curiously. 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ She can’t. Absolutely not. He sees it in her eyes, the widened stare she gives him with the subtle shake of her head. 

With a sigh he crouches down, a hand braced on her calf. Cupping the once strong muscle as he lowers the knife to her thigh. The cut isn’t deep, it hardly drips any blood at all. He doesn’t stop there though, he makes another incision below that one, deeper this time. And one more, the deepest one, the pain makes her gasp and tense. Hands flying to grab at Joseph’s shoulders. 

“How long should it take?” She mumbles through gritted teeth. Now staring at it, bloodied and split open, she realizes how bad it is. That maybe it should’ve hurt more than it did, an injury that would’ve meant a trip to the ER is now just throbbing. 

“A day. Maybe less,” he smiles at her, “you’re young, so hopefully not too long. If it takes any longer than that...then you’re out of luck. It’ll heal normally, like a human.”

Rook jerks her head into a nod, frustration taking hold of her. She doubts quick healing will do a damn thing to make Joseph proud. 

He glances down at the cuts where they start to drip down her leg. “I can cover that for you.”

“No, give me something else.” 

His lips twitch into something near to a smile, which is a good sign. She needs Joseph’s approval, anything less and she’s stuck here longer. 

“Flight,” he declares, eyes shifting to her wings with a raised chin. He stands up and holds his hand out, smiling when she takes it a second later. “I don’t mean flying—though you can do that no doubt—but using your wings as a defense of sorts.” He stretches his own wings out and she fears for a second that he’s about to show her something she doesn’t want to see. 

Something that will hurt. 

“You can push people back, like creating a gust of strong wind.” 

Her eyebrows raise, impressed once more. 

“Try it for me.”

She frowns, no she’s not going through this again. She crosses her arms, a sigh escaping her. “You can’t do this one either?”

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes and immediately she regrets what she said. 

His wings rear back away from his body and shove downward. Again and again. Until there’s wind and force behind it. Stronger than what she ever thought possible. 

It knocks her back onto the bed, keeps her flattened there and unable to move. He stops a second later, hands crossing behind his back sweetly. Like he hadn’t done a thing wrong. 

She wants to do that one, God she really does. Speak about a defensive maneuver. It might give her a small chance to escape, it might make it all easier. 

Rook laughs as she scrambles to get her feet back on the floor. Does he realize that he’s arming her with weapons to match his skill? 

Except when she tries to do what he did it isn’t nearly as cool. She feels like she comes close to it, her wings repeat the motions she saw him do and there’s the slightest breeze. But she knows it’s the same force that comes behind waving a paper plate. 

She pushes harder, forces her wings down just a little bit more. Puts her weight into it and relishes in the way that Joseph shakes on his heels, leaning back as wisps of his hair fly around his face. 

It’s not much, and she tires quickly, but it’s a start. Joseph laughs, a soft chuckle of amusement when she collapses back on the bed with a heavy breath. 

“You’re learning, my darling.” 

She hums, but she can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face. Surely if she can master that then Joseph will have no choice but to send her back to do...whatever it is God wants him to. Whatever he thinks will come from living in her world. 

There’s a renewed fire in his eyes, an excitement that matches her own. “Let’s try one more.” 

Rook agrees, how can she not? She’s exhausted though, she hasn’t done much of anything but her bones ache something awful. 

The next one’s called shadowmelding and she has a feeling it won’t work at all. 

Joseph can’t do it, but apparently John can, which makes her think that John’s stronger. That if he wasn’t so volatile then he could be a leader. 

“You should be able to merge with the shadow,” he murmurs softly, clicking off the lights, “you’ll be intangible, more agile too. It’s quite the skill.”

And it’s one she tries over and over and over again. 

She gets it on the eighth try. 

One second she’s there and the next it’s like she’s stepped in another room. The edges of her vision go black and when she stretches her fingers out she can hardly see herself. 

She watches Joseph turn, looking for her, and he’s beaming. A laugh gets caught in his throat before he speaks. 

“You’ve done it, haven’t you?” 

Rook doesn’t answer, her lack of presence is enough. Instead she tries moving, going from shadow to shadow, staying concealed. Safe. That’s how she feels. Like she’s untouchable. 

It’s a power trip. 

“If I turn on the lights,” Joseph steps towards the switch, a finger hovering beneath it, “and the shadows are gone then you’ll be revealed.” He flicks it on and watches her reappear. “It’ll take time to be able to do it when a room isn’t completely dark. Where you’re outside and you have to dance between the shadows and lack thereof without showing yourself.” 

She blinks at him, unsure of what to say or how to feel. She’s not human anymore, that’s for sure. And that should scare her, she should be screaming and yelling. Demanding for Joseph to put an end to this madness. She’s numb though. Unable to speak as Joseph approaches her and pulls her into a one sided hug.

“I think it’s time, darling.” He kisses the side of her neck sweetly, a tender press of his lips that makes her shiver. “We’ll gather my family and we’ll finally bridge the divide.” He breaks apart from her, hands sliding to her waist and squeezing softly. “I don’t know what will be waiting for us, but I intend to make an oasis.” 

She ends up on the very edge of the woodland surrounded by the Seeds. The other two court members are strangely absent, and she wonders if they think Joseph is crazy. If they’d much rather he didn’t do this at all. 

Her eyes flicker to Jacob and Faith, standing off to her right. Jacob is stoic, looking composed and strong as if always does. He’s wearing a mask though, keeping himself from lashing out at his brother. What’s done is done. It’s too late now. 

Compared to her brother, Faith is a wreck. She can’t keep still. She’s shifting and twirling at her hair and the hem of her dress. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth until she has to swipe away the blood she drew with her tongue. 

Rook wishes they weren’t so nervous. It’s not helping her anxiety. John’s the only reassuring thing right now. Standing beside her with a hand laced between hers. He’s shaking from anticipation, his wings fluttering from time to time as he watches Joseph prepare her exit. 

She licks her lips and tips her head up to look at John. Her eyes flicker around his face, searching for any indecision, some sort of indication that he had been lying to her. That really she wasn’t going home at all. That this would end up killing her. That it’s nothing more than a shot in the dark. 

She leans up to speak in his ear. “Is it going to hurt?”

John blinks quickly, head snapping down to her. “What?” 

“Going back. Will it hurt?” 

He shakes his head impatiently, “of course not,” he mumbles, “don’t be silly.” 

Joseph claps his hand together and steps towards her. Extending both hands until she takes them and lets him pull her into the makeshift ring he crafted out of flowers and mushrooms. 

“How is this going to work?” 

Joseph doesn’t answer right away, instead he grabs her by the nape of her neck and tips their foreheads together. 

“I’ll bind our souls together as I send you back home. That way I’ll have something to follow, it also won’t let you go very far once you're back.” He draws away, a sigh puffing out against her face. “Don’t run, please, I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

Rook nods wordlessly, hands clenching uselessly by her side as he wraps his hand around her throat and murmurs something she can’t hear. It must be the spell—or whatever the hell he’d call it—because it knocks her to her knees just as he steps outside the circle. 

He stares down at her and falls into line with his siblings. 

She wants to scream, to ask for help as everybody begins to blur and her vision turns blindingly white. Like she’s nowhere and everywhere at once. 

It doesn’t hurt, John hadn’t lied about that. But she feels like she doesn’t exist as her hair whips around her face and her feet get tugged along some imaginary path for her to follow. In one flash of darkness the whole world resettles around her. It takes her a minute to pry open her eyes, and when she does, she almost cries. 

It’s Hope County. She’s home, she’s not dead. 

A laugh bubbles up from her chest and she forgets all that she went through. Everything that happened wasn’t real, it was some terrible nightmare. It didn’t happen to  _ her.  _ She’s safe. But as she gets to her feet to run, her brain short circuits.

There’s a buzzing behind her eyes as her heart slows and she spins in a circle. Catching sight of her pale blue wings. 

A whine escapes her chest before she collapses and hits the ground hard.

_ ***** _

When she wakes up she doesn’t feel dead. Her toes wiggle and her eyes peel open. It’s almost normal. 

“You’re awake.” 

Rook’s vision clears and the world finally comes into focus. Faith is hovering over her, knees underneath her and hands folded in her lap. Her hair brushes Rook’s cheek from how close she is. 

Her smile is soft and lovely, as if she’s actually happy to see Rook doing just fine. 

“I’m awake,” she eventually mutters, rising up on her elbows. She stretches her neck with a groan. Then she feels what’s beneath her and locks up. 

She’s...cozy. Not on the cold hard ground but rather a cot made out of soft feathers. 

She looks past Faith and almost chokes. They’ve been busy while she was out. They’ve got a camp. A small settlement that consists of Joseph and his family. For now. 

“I thought you wouldn’t wake.” Faith reaches out to hold her shoulder and help her sit up fully. “You had us worried.”

“How long…?”

Faith tips her head in consideration, lips pursing. “A week? I dunno, time is strange here. I feel strange,” Faith shrugs when Rook only stares at her. She can’t offer this woman her sympathy, not after what’s been done to her. A feeling of anger and disgust rises in her chest and she stands. Her legs are wobbly underneath her, she has to steady herself on a nearby tree to stop herself from falling back down. 

“How is it?” Faith trials along behind her when the pain in her joints eases and she can finally move forward. “Being back home? Are you excited?” Faith’s wings lift her momentarily off the ground to get ahead of Rook. She walks backwards a couple of steps, watching Rook tilt her head around to take in the woods. 

Faith is right, this is home, she loves the woods, but she still feels homesick. There’s a hollowness in her chest that can’t be filled with a stroll through the forest. The same forest that ended up trapping her in the fae world. 

“Rook?” Faith grabs her shoulder, stopping her progress. “Are you happy now?” 

“Yeah,” she’s not really listening. Too busy trying to wrap her head around on just how much work the four of them managed to get done in a week. 

They’ve got a damn  _ house _ . Among other things, but the shack in front of her is the most eye-catching. 

“Rook!” 

Joseph’s voice makes her jump. His touch does the same thing, but he’s too excited to take note of that. He pulls her in for a hug, his hands lingering on her waist and briefly ghosting across her wings. 

“I knew you’d come around, darling.” He grasps her hands in his and preens when she squeezes his fingertips. “You’re special. We need you, God we need you for this. If you didn’t wake…”

He breaths out noisily and shakes his head as if to erase the thought. 

“That doesn’t matter, you’re here now. And soon the rest of the court will be as well, and my people will come and life will be grand, won’t it?” 

He drags her along, motioning for Faith to follow along. His arm slings around her shoulder and hauls her close, so with each step their bodies brush together. Her wings knock into his and the sensation makes her shudder. Rook tugs them in close to her spine and he just smiles knowingly before he keeps talking. 

She’s sat down on a makeshift couch inside their little hut with Joseph beside her and Faith puttering around in what looks like the beginning of a kitchen. 

“I have big plans, Rook,” he murmurs softly, capturing her attention again. “You were always going to be a part of them, you were always going to have as much of a role in this as my family. Now though, you have a responsibility. First it was taking these wings, then learning what powers God has granted you. And now,” he sighs, head dipping as he smiles. 

Rook is shaking, wings twitching nervously behind her. She grabs his wrist hard, teeth grinding together when he doesn’t immediately speak. 

“This place—John figured out it’s called Hope county—is full of sin. As everything place that harbors living beings is. I won't stand for that, Rook. I want someplace perfect, a safe haven where nothing goes wrong.”

“How do you intend to do that?” 

He smiles, a laugh slipping past his lips. It draws her eyes downward to his beard, it’s thicker than she remembers, and she notes that he’d fit right in with the mountain folk who go hunting each weekend and spend their free time in makeshift bunkers the preppers made. 

It hurts to think Eli would invite these creatures along with him, that such a smart man would be in danger because of her. 

“I’ll reign over them, they’ll need someone to guide them towards a righteous path free of pain. I don’t want to—but I’ll use force if I must. It’s for the good of the people, Rook. Surely you understand.”

Rook’s lip trembles and her eyes shutter close. She hardly feels Joseph’s gentle touch on her jaw, she can’t hear him mumbling soothing words into her ear because she breaks. She shakes apart and falls into Joseph’s chest and she cries. 


	8. New Plan

She’s in shock, left reeling at the fact that they just...let her go. She’s not naive, she understands that someone is probably following her. And if they aren't, then she knows that they’d be able to get her back, that they have the power to do so. She won’t let anyone else get hurt because of her, not a chance in hell is she going to let that happen.

The worst part is that Joseph didn’t give her any instructions. No words of wisdom on exactly what she’s supposed to do. “Just go home,” he told her, gently shoving at her shoulders until she turned and started walking. She has a feeling that she knows why. 

The people of Hope County don’t need Joseph to start leading them, not yet, first they must see her. See what she’s become and understand their new reality. He’s a smart man, he knows that he can hang back and prepare and she’ll spread her story. She'll tell them what has happened to her and what Joseph is planning, and that’s exactly what he wants. She could always hang back and not say a thing, not explain, but Joseph knows her more than she knows herself. He knows that she wouldn't be able to keep quiet, not after the isolation she’s been through.

Simply put she needs to speak to another human before she goes crazy.

It takes an hour to reach Fall’s End. The blue sign welcoming her is just as bright as he remembers, only slightly rotted away from exposure at the base. The water tower further along the road is a beacon of hope, and the church...christ she hasn't been inside there for so long. The sight makes her knees buckle slightly, has her hands clenching beside her as her steps slow.

She blames Joseph for that. He ruined God—religion in general really. Jerome would be ashamed to hear Joseph speak about the voice in his head. To think that he’s really so special.

It takes a lot of effort to climb those steps. More to raise her hand and pull open the door. It’s heavy, and she has to dig her feet into the ground just to get inside. She blames Joseph for that one too, he’s made her weak. Took away her walks through the woods and the heavy lifting Nick sometimes asked her to help with around his house.

The thought of Nick, a friend from another life, makes her heart ache terribly. She needs to remind herself that this comes first, that eventually she’ll get away from the Seeds, she’ll be able to live. She’s not sure what kind of life she’ll have—it’ll be different, but sometimes different can be better. 

Rook hadn’t thought that there might’ve been a sermon going on—Jerome’s flock is large and loyal, they adore the man. And she knows why, it’s the same reason why her feet led her here. He’ll heed her warnings, he’ll listen without calling her crazy. Without calling the cops. Which she can’t imagine happening, they’d hospitalize her, try to pry the wings off her back, think that she probably got them from some sketchy guy off the black market.

Body modifications aren't  _ too _ unusual. When she was in college she saw people with tongues split like snakes and even ears sharpened to a point like an elf. 

There’s no one inside and for a second all she can feel is the weight of loneliness that threatens to crush her.

“Hello? Father Jerome?”

She steps further inside, wings yanking to her spine. She’s painfully aware of how large they are, that they’re impossible to hide. Her fingers twirl in front of her, lacing together to contain her nerves. 

When she hears a clatter from further inside, around a half wall, she tenses and briefly considers running. But he’s there before she can react properly. Head bowed as he writes something down in a notebook she’s never seen before—he must've used all the pages in his last one since she’s been gone.

“Yes, give me a moment—“

“Jerome…” her voice is soft, gently pleading. And his eyes get yanked right up. 

He sees her—only her—and he laughs. There’s disbelief in it. Surprise and relief all wrapped into one as he takes a hesitant step forward.

“Rook.” His lips raise into a smile, such a trustworthy smile, so kind and fatherly that she realizes once more why he’s such a good pastor. She’d like to believe that his flock would never leave his side. But her faith isn’t as strong as it once was after listening to the Seed family, they're a persuasive bunch. And when one of them claims that he can talk to God…how can someone resist that? 

“Rook, hell, where have you been?” He steps towards her, carefully laying his book on a pew as he comes down the aisle. “We’ve been looking everywhere, we called the cops—we couldn’t find you!”

She cringes, shoulders hiking up around her neck and wings twitching, flaring out from her body out of shame. They shouldn't have gone through the trouble. She was lost to another world.

Jerome’s eyes flick up, following the flash of blue movement. And he stops. His hand, outstretched as if ready to pull her in for a hug, stops in mid air. His brows knit together, nose scrunching up as he looks at her wings. At something that shouldn’t be possible. 

“What happened to you? Who…”

“I was kidnapped.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind even if it’s not really true. She’s the one who stepped into that mushroom circle, who fought every step of the way and dug her own grave. 

“What happened?” He asks again when she doesn’t say anything else. 

She steps closer, a small breath easing out of her when he doesn't flinch away, just lets his hand flop by his side.

Rook is hanging on by a thread as it is, and when he finally closes the gap between them and touches her. A gentle hand on her arm, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into her skin, she breaks. Her body crumples and he catches her. Cushions her fall as she goes down on her knees. 

She tells him everything through her tears. It’s a shit confession, her words are disjointed and messy, not quite in the order she’d like them to be. But he listens nonetheless. A hand staying on her arm, keeping her grounded before she slips away entirely. She isn’t sure how much he believes when it’s all said and done, but she says it all.

Waking up somewhere strange and first seeing a fae—Faith. Meeting the whole Seed family and walking through a party of creatures with wings like her own. She tells of running away, of killing an old man who was only trying to help her. How she became a prisoner left to John’s tactics of torture. Most of all she told of Joseph, that he’s dangerous and crazy and unhinged and he’s a man to be feared. That he sewed wings onto her back and injected her with drugs again and again until she performed. He thinks he talks to God, he hears voices and sees things and that's why he's here. He used her as a goddamn key, it's her fault that he and his family are sitting in their backyard. They won't kill anyone—not if they don't resist, but she isn't sure what he's trying to accomplish. He's vague about it all, says that he wants the world to be free from sin and he's starting with Hope county. 

She tells him that she wouldn't be surprised if Joseph is the kind of man to change his story to fit his breed of crazy. That if she were to disappear and never return and he couldn't get her back then he’d tell his people back home that she was a foil to Judas. He seems the type.

“We can’t let them take this land,” Rook finally says. “They’ll hurt people. Kill them if that’s what it takes.”

Jerome isn’t speaking, he’s not even looking at her. His eyes are instead directed on the closed doors of his church. “We thought you were dead,” he finally whispers. So soft that Rook needs to lean in closer just to hear him. “You just...disappeared, and now you’re back telling me this and—“ he cuts himself off, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “As a man of God it’s hard to believe, to think there’s something beyond our realm, but it’s even harder to turn you away. I’ll help, Rook, I’m just not sure where to begin.” 

She smiles, trying to hold back the rush of excitement that comes from his words. “I’d give Eli a call.” She pauses, frowns, “do you know Eli?”

“Vaguely. I’ve heard the name. I think he was at Nick and Kim’s barbecue.” 

“He can help, he’s smart and resourceful. He’s got friends who are like him—who own more guns then blankets. People who are loyal to this county and would do anything to protect it.” 

Jerome sighs, seeming so much older than his years, and for a second she thinks that she pushed too far. “You’re asking us to kill these people?” 

“They aren’t people.” She tips her head when Jerome grunts, “but yes, I am. We need an army. And Eli can make one, I’m sure of it.” 

After all that she’s said it’s now that Jerome doesn’t look convinced. Maybe it’s the thought of killing. He’s retired military, and lord knows he doesn’t want to return to that life anymore than any of the other veterans scattered throughout Hope. 

His gaze flickers back to her wings, fingers clenching into fists. Probably thinking back on when she’d yanked her jacket off and pulled her shirt up to show him the scars. Where they had been sewed into her skin. That she was damaged goods. That he might not believe in faes, but he could believe that someone had done this to her. That they’re using God as a shield for their insanity. 

For now, that’s enough. 

“Are you staying, Rook? I mean, what should I tell the others?” 

Her lips twist, because for that she’s actually unsure. Joseph didn’t tell her to come back to him. It’d be smart to return though, no one needs to meet the Seeds so soon. She can’t possibly stay, it’d be putting her inane plan to kill those monsters at risk. She can’t have that, not when she feels like she is so close to actual freedom. 

If Jerome is happy to see her go on her way, he hides it well. Tells her to be safe and that if he doesn’t hear from her soon then he will be contacting the police again. Which makes her heart stutter in her chest. She has a feeling Joseph wouldn’t like the authority of police. Especially when it involves her. 

She finds Joseph’s camp easily enough—she knows these woods perfectly—and he’s there to greet her. To pull her into a tight embrace and lay a kiss to her forehead. 

And he asks her something that has her smiling. 

“Where should we start, Rook? I need a place for my people, and you know this county better than anyone.” 

He’ll listen to her, he’s got to with how special he thinks she is. He ultimately doesn’t see past her veiled pleasantries. When she carefully suggests that the whitetail mountains would be a perfect fit for them. It’s heavily wooded—an homage to their world—with enough privacy to get things up and running. 

Joseph thinks it’s perfect. 

Joseph doesn’t know about the hunting cameras strewn across the forest. 

The secondary camp they set up further north, an hours walk, is illegal. They’re building on someone’s property, and John’s skills as an otherworldly lawyer won’t pull them out of the weeds if someone catches them. 

Which is bound to happen. Rook tilts her head to the sky and finds the red flash of a camera lens. If Jerome does as she asked of him, if he goes to Eli and that mountain man is as good of a friend as Rook thinks, then he’ll search these cameras until he stumbles across the one above her head. 

She had thought that she didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of her, but she’s only human, and humans can be selfish at times. Like right now, when she turns her back away from the camera so no one follows her gaze and she stumbles over when Joseph calls her name. 

“Why’d you build a house back there if we were going to move?” 

Joseph hums softly, gaze flickering to his siblings as they lay out supplies for a more permanent settlement. 

“I’m hoping to have homes scattered across this county. I won’t restrict my people onto living on one plot of land. We’ll have our own houses—that place back there, that’s for my family and I. But maybe one day even we will live separately.” 

Her brows furrow but she doesn’t say anything. This mission he has seems harmless enough, to an outsider maybe. And she has to pray that the people of Hope will see through the Seeds’ charming facade. 

Lord knows it’s too late for her. 

“Come, let's help them, Rook.” He tugs her along and she makes a noise in the back of her throat. He glances over his shoulder as her and his cheeks tinge pink. “I have to admit that I’m rushing things, I’m excited to finally be moving forward, to be carrying out God’s plan.” He stops a few feet away from their new construction site. “I’m hoping he’ll tell me where to go after this. I know the end goal, but I’m not sure what He wants right now. If I should bring the other faes so soon or wait. How I should try and guide these lost people living here…” he sighs and in it she realizes how easy it is to become enamored by him. “I’m sure He’ll speak to me soon.” 

They spend the rest of the day building—a craft she can’t say she’s too good at. She listens to Jacob and Joseph when they direct her, occasionally seeing Faith drop off more supplies from the woods that she’s gathered. Stuff she’s stolen no doubt. 

Rook can’t help but feel like something is missing. Someone. More than once she cranes her neck around to find John and comes up empty each and every time. 

She dared to ask Jacob, her hands holding a piece of wood firmly into place as he hammered away. 

“John? He’s not too good with his hands. He was important back home—laws are important—right now though.” Jacob blows out a heavy breath and shakes his head. “Until he’s got people to abide by those laws, to break them, he’s got shit all to do.” 

There’s a tinge of envy in Jacob’s voice, like he wishes he could kick his feet up and relax for once. Not like she sees John relaxing. He’s strangely absent, and the thought that he could’ve wandered off somewhere, that he could be seen by someone, makes her stomach swirl. 

Joseph might not know how quickly God wants things to move along, but she has a feeling John’s going to get in trouble if he reveals himself so soon. 

He might screw up her own end goal. He might hear whispers of saving the girl who went missing. Who everyone thought was dead. 

_ Fucking hell.  _

She drops her hands away when Jacob gives her the all clear and she doesn’t waste a second rounding the start of their building to find Joseph working away on the other side. 

He sees her and smiles, lighting up so intensely it makes her flinch. 

“Should I go look for John?” 

Joseph opens his mouth then frowns. It’s as if he didn’t realize his pen brother was gone. He looks around, head swiveling before he rounds back on her. 

“It’s getting dark,” she reasons.

“I’m sure he can find his own way, he’s got a keen sense of direction.” At this Joseph’s lip curls slightly. 

“There are animals out here, wolves.” 

And just like that he goes pale and is sending her away. Reminding her to be careful but asking so urgently for her to bring his brother back safely. 

She makes it not even ten feet into the woods before she hears it. The commotion coming from behind her. The slamming of car doors. Flashing lights and raised voices. 

Her hearing is so much better, so strong that she doesn’t need to strain to hear the next exchange of words. 

“—with the Hope County sheriff's department. Are you aware you’re building on private property?” 

Staci Pratt. Joined the force when he turned 23. Two years later and he’s got a whole lot of bravado behind him. Too much. Way too much for dealing with the Seeds. 

She can’t hear anyone else, it doesn’t sound like he has a partner tonight. Rook’s breath catches and she turns back around, a slight laugh leaving her lips. Despite all that’s happened, the strange world and the way the Seeds’ float above it all, cops still scream safety. It’s a way out. A legal one. And surely Joseph wouldn’t risk getting jailed. Christ she can’t imagine what they’d do to a man with fucking wings in their cell. 

“Perhaps you can come down to the station with me and we can talk this out, I’m sure the owner doesn’t want to press charges, but still. Protocol.” 

Rook steels herself, takes a step and—

**_CRACK_ **

and she hears a gunshot. It echoes and takes so long to fade that someone other than her must have heard it. 

“Rook didn’t mention any cameras.”

Someone sighs deeply. “I know, Jacob, I know. Just...get rid of the body. I’ll search for these cameras and remove them.”

“And Rook? What’re we doing about her?” 

“Nothing. Perhaps she didn’t know. The plan doesn’t change. We’re still in God’s light, brother.” 

Rook throws up. She bends in half and empties the contents of her stomach. There’s a rushing in her ears, her own heartbeat going wild that she doesn’t hear the approaching footsteps until they’re nearly on her. 

“I heard a gunshot.” 

She has to stifle her scream, it comes out a mangled gasp. 

John raises an unimpressed eyebrow and repeats what he said. She only nods, confirming it. He doesn’t react, which is alarming, but it’s John. She has to remind herself that. He’s crazy.

And right now as she stares at him and he looks slightly over her shoulder, she thinks she’s hit the nail on the head. There’s a darkness in his eyes, an apathy she’s never seen before.

“We best get back then,” he suggests. 

He doesn’t grab her or wait for her to follow. Just walks by and bumps into her shoulder as he does. The interaction has her reeling, she wants to stay here, she doesn’t think she’ll be able to look them in their eyes knowing what they’re capable of. What they just did. 

She throws up one more time and makes her way back. 


	9. Eden’s Gate

Joseph’s ‘people’ flock to her world where they spread like a disease. It’s meant to be a joyous occasion, even if Joseph’s still unsure where to go from here. He acts like he knows what he’s doing, wines and dines and shows his faes that this is the start of something new. 

It takes a month until Joseph changes his story. 

After he’s chosen a name for his movement—Eden’s Gate—and builds three churches that scatter across the county. It’s hard for people not to take notice. For the ones who are religious, who follow Jerome, to see a man with wings and otherworldly powers and the claims that he speaks to God—to want to join him. Rook doesn’t go to Joseph’s sermons often, she’d rather stay back with Jacob at the house they’ve built, but when she does she’s convinced people just want to gather to see the freak show. 

To confirm or deny the rumors in their own head that float around about the Seed family and where they came from and “are those wings actually real?” 

But then people start to join. Right around the time Joseph _changes his damn story._ When he says the world is ending. _That’s_ why he’s here. To save Hope county and make sure there’s some shred of civilization left when God burns everything to the ground. 

He hasn’t quite expanded outside the mountains, but it’s only been a month. Though he’s been so busy. Jacob’s training the faes who are willing to fight, to put their powers to use. Faith is constantly in the house, taking notes that she keeps under lock and key besides the few times Rook catches her and Joseph speaking softly to one another. 

And John...she’s not sure what John’s up to. He doesn’t get home until very late most nights. Usually after dinner, which is always something that causes Joseph to sigh and mope before he falls into their routine. 

They’re moving fast, gaining followers to a religion that Joseph never even fucking mentioned before a couple weeks ago. 

Rook would think Joseph’s new brand of crazy would speed up her rescue, but there’s been nothing. She’s heard nothing and seen nothing, it’s like she’s been forgotten about. It causes her to stay up most nights just staring at the ceiling, wondering if she should just take her chances and run. 

Maybe Jerome didn’t actually believe her. Perhaps he saw Eden’s Gate and realized that they aren’t hurting anyone, just preaching. Even if Joseph’s main source of followers has come right from Jerome’s flock. 

Disloyal bastards. 

The night she actually does manage to get an iota of sleep, when she curls up and tucks her wings against her spine, is when he shows up. Go figure. 

She wakes up to someone shaking her. They’ve got a vice grip on her arm and almost pushes her right off the bed. Rook has a million things ready on the tip of her tongue, but she bites it back when she realizes that it’s John and he looks _bad._

Tired, most notably. With his hair hanging in his face and bags under his eyes. He hasn’t bothered changing out of his pajamas so it must be early still. 

She raises an eyebrow at him when he doesn’t immediately say anything. 

He pauses, glancing over his shoulder before speaking. “Someone is here right now asking about you.” John steps back away from the bed when she scrambles to her feet. Eyes darting around the room before she’s scrounging around her drawers for clothes. “He’s speaking with Joseph right now.” 

“Who is it?” 

She’s praying for Eli. That man can be scary when he wants to be, even if everyone who knows him understands that he’s really a big softie. The beard helps, the whole “I’ve walked into the wild” look really sells it. 

But John shrugs, hands tucked behind his back as he regards her. He doesn’t look away as he yanks her shirt above her head and she can’t find it in her to care. 

“I’m not sure. A pastor by the looks of it.”

_Jerome._

Rook nods. It’s not her first choice but it’s something. Someone who can speak to Joseph first hand and realize that he’s different from all those other crazies who think the world is bound to end in hellfire. She’s not too sure what extent he’ll go to ‘save’ people, he probably doesn’t even know. And that’s what makes him so dangerous. 

She wants someone to see that. 

“You think he’ll mind if I join?” She asks when she pulls on one of the dresses Joseph chose for her. “Joseph, I mean.”

Again he shrugs. Not looking too interested in anything really. She hesitates before she leaves her room, eyes raking over John. She’s tempted to ask if he’s okay, tell him that he’s not really bothering to hide how off he’s been lately. 

But she’s sure if she’s noticed than his siblings have, and that’s their job, not hers. 

She leaves quickly and finds herself standing at the threshold of the living room. Joseph’s back is to her, but Jerome’s eyes flick up immediately and he smiles. It’s soft, such kindness there even if she can feel the tension in the room. 

Joseph looks over his shoulder, maybe expecting one of his siblings, but he sees her and brightens up. 

“Rook, darling. I thought you were sleeping.” 

She nods her head, “I was yeah.” She glances back, remembers John and decides not to mention that he’s the one who woke her. 

“Take a seat then,” Joseph tells her, and it takes her a moment to do as he asks. She was prepared for him to tell her to go back to sleep, to go help Faith prepare breakfast despite it being too early for such a thing. Anything to keep her from this conversation.

He’s so disillusioned that he thinks that she’s loyal. That her heart isn’t aching to leave with Jerome and find some peace in sleeping in her own bed. In being talked to like some kind of God send—having Joseph continuously ask her to present himself to his people to show the power of God—is tiring. 

He wants her to be his poster child. 

Rook carefully sits beside Joseph, keeping space between them that he doesn’t waste time closing. His hand covers her own, thumb rubbing back and forth in such a possessive manner. 

“I’m not trying to steal anything from you,” Joseph mumbles, voice soft and coaxing as he picks up the conversation where they must’ve left off. “I'm only preaching, it’s up to them to decide if they want to follow me.”

Jerome is nodding, fingers flexing on the top of his thighs. “I get that Joseph, but what you’re saying, that you’re a prophet—“

“It’s true. You can call me crazy if you’d like, but that won’t stop me from spreading His word as he whispers it in my ear.”

She sees something flash behind Jerome’s eyes as his gaze slips over to her. To her wings then Joseph’s. 

“Then what am I doing, Joseph?” 

Joseph smiles, but it lacks the warmth he saves for his family. “You’re doing what you believe to be right, and I can’t blame you for that, but soon you’ll see that _I’m_ right. And the gates of Eden will be open to you whenever you choose to accept my word.” 

Jerome doesn’t choose to address what Joseph said, which is admittedly smart. “What happens when the people of Hope county don’t want to listen? There’s going to be some resistance, there already is.” As he finishes he looks right at Rook, and she gets it. There’s a silent conversation that passes through them in an instant. 

He hadn’t abandoned her, they’re still planning to get her out of here. 

Joseph hums, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. “I’ll do whatever it takes to save them. They might not know they need to be saved so I’ll take it upon myself to guide them.” 

At that Jerome’s smile tightens and he stands so abruptly it even seems to shock Joseph. He clutches her hand tighter, squeezing so hard that she trembles. 

“Just be careful, Joseph, you’re scaring these people. They don’t know what you and your flock are or where you’ve come from.” His eyes slide over to her once more and then he’s gone, seeing himself out and leaving her alone once more. 

It’s a glimmer of hope though, and at this point that’s all she has. 

*****

Rook isn’t surprised when Joseph lets her leave on her own. He places a kiss on her forehead and tells her to be back before lunch and that was that. They both know the safest place to be is within the walls Joseph is building, his compound, so to speak. Still on private property—but no one has yet to cross the Seeds. 

People see the guns, the training, the wings they have. Jerome was right, people are scared of what these new neighbors are capable of. And so is she. No one is giving her a straight answer, least of all Joseph, when she asks why she’s hearing pops of gunfire in the distance. 

He won’t tell her what he’s doing out there, but she has a feeling it won’t be safe if she wanders too far. Someone, maybe one of those wielding guns and keeping her up at night, will catch sight of her wings and shoot her on sight.

She won’t take that chance, she still wants to live. So she doesn’t walk too far, barely half a mile until she hits a lake that she’s only been to once before. 

Rook sits by the edge after shedding her sandals and sticks her feet in the cool water. She leans back on her palms and ignores the distant gunfire, lies to herself and says that it’s a group of hunters and nothing more. 

“Rook.” 

She sensed him before he spoke—heard him maybe—and it’s a stark reminder that she’s no longer human. 

“John,” she mumbles in response. Not looking at him as he gets closer and takes a seat beside her. Though he doesn't get comfortable like she is, he doesn't take off his shoes and socks to enjoy the water.

Rook waits for him to say something, to maybe ask about Jerome’s sudden appearance, but he’s strangely quiet. Knees tucked up close to his chest like a child trying to hide. It’s scary to not see him so manic. She still vividly remembers when he’d visit her in her prison cell of a room and pace back and forth in front of her, retelling about his day with laughs and smiles.

She doesn’t mind the company though, it’s lonely by herself. Everyone’s so damn busy putting together whatever is playing inside Joseph’s head that she’s been left to herself. It’s ironic, just a few months ago she wanted that exact same thing.

His throat clicks on his next swallow and he opens his mouth hesitantly. “Were you thinking of running?” 

She snorts, stupid idea really. “No, where would I go?”

He hums, unfurling slightly from his protective hold to sit indian style. She doesn’t miss the way his wings won’t stop moving. How they flutter and twitch, like he’s restless. When he speaks next he pretends as if she didn’t speak. “I was.” His eyebrows jump down and he frowns. “Running. I was...thinking of running. Have been for a while now, each time I walk out those doors and leave I just wonder what would happen if I never came back.” His shoulders hike up around his neck when he catches her staring at him intently. 

“Where do you go all day?” It’s simple curiosity that makes her ask. His siblings seem to have everything figured out, she’s always wanted to know what he does. What’s his role in this Eden?

“I just...walk. I dunno,” he laughs bitterly and scratches at the back of his head. “There’s nothing for me to do. I was a lawyer—a damn good one at that. But now,” he shrugs and she can easily fill in the blank. Now he’s useless with nothing to do. “Joseph says that eventually he’ll have a job I can do, that I’m important and loved, that I give him strength everyday to do what he’s doing.”

“But?”

He leans forward and drags his finger through the water before he answers. Ruins the quiet peace with foamy ripples. “But I think he could do it without me. I followed my brother here hoping for so much.” He finally returns her stare and now it's her who wants to look away. She holds it though, has a feeling that his temper might flare if she breaks this connection. “For a while I hated Jacob and Faith for doubting Joseph. He’s our brother for christ's sake! We should stand by one another, not try to dash each other’s dreams.” He falls quiet again, hand falling on his thigh and dampening his jeans. 

“I wanted a life. A good life, one that wasn’t so limited—which is different than what Joseph wants: a world free from sin.”

She looks at him through squinted eyes and purses her lips. “Are you even religious?”

He nods real slow, “yes, I am. I believe in God. That’s what my parents beat into me. I believe...and I want to believe that Joseph speaks to God. That somehow I found myself in the presence of His chosen prophet. But like I said, I wanted a life.

She looks away from John, out towards the horizon of the sun. She should get back soon if she wants time to wander the forest before lunch. Rook hears John stand and he shifts on his feet, as if he doesn't know if he should leave. She grabs his wrist before he has the chance to decide.

“I don’t think Joseph is going to give you the kind of life you want.” There’s another pop of gunfire ahead of them. “He’ll bring death and destruction to this land, and that’s no life at all.”

John turns to leave and she lets him. 


	10. Coming To an End

She’s supposed to be asleep. 

She can’t ever sleep soundly though, so instead she’s pacing. Going back and forth at the base of the bed wondering if she should be worried about John. Not in the sense that she actually cares about the man, but more because he’s turning out to be a loose canon. 

It can be dangerous to not have a purpose. To feel useless like he does. 

Rook stops when beyond her closed door she hears footsteps. She tenses, like a child who has school in the morning and is ready to feign sleep before a parent peeks their head in. 

But whoever is out there passes by and keeps going. The walls are precariously thin and she hears exactly where they go. Down the long hallway and into the kitchen.

She’s quick to push her ear to the door, just to listen. Curiosity and all that. 

“John. You look upset.” 

_ Joseph. Joseph’s speaking. She knows that much. _

“Are you finally going to tell me what’s been bothering you? We’re all worried.” 

“I know, Joseph.” 

Rook knows it’s stupid, that she should be doing anything other than what she’s about to, but what does she have to lose? She opens her door carefully and slips out, moving down the hallway and stopping right before she hits the kitchen. 

It’s wrong, or at least it feels wrong. She has to remind herself that these aren’t her family or friends. They’re her kidnappers.

“I'm just not sure what’s needed of me. We came here because it was meant to be glorious and I’m not feeling that.” John takes a breath, a deep shuddering inhale that shakes his ribs. “What are we doing here, Joseph? Building an Eden that we've never heard of—“

“God never told me until now!” There’s a quiet edge in his voice. A bubbling anger that John doesn’t back down from. 

“Give me something to do, then. Something righteous, prove to me that God—that you—want me here.” 

There’s a pause, one that lasts way too long. Rook hardly moves, hardly breathes. She’s not even in the room with them but she can feel the tension. 

“You’re good with your words,” Joseph finally says. Not a question. A simple statement. “You sway people—they listen to you.”

“The faes do. Did.”

“That’s what you’ll do,” Joseph laughs, sounding giddy. “You’ll be my Baptist. You’ll gather the heretics in this land and not only rid them of their sins but also preach to them. Let them hear you. Even if they don’t want to listen.”

Rook leaves before she hears John’s response. She feels sick, stomach rolling and getting uncomfortably tight. Her head is down on the way back to her room as she tries to steady her breathing. 

And she runs straight into Jacob. 

He’s a solid wall of muscle and she almost yelps. Her head cranes up and she can’t help the strangled gasp that leaves her lips. She searches his face for anger but comes up empty. He’s dull behind his eyes, hands hanging limp by his side. 

“J-Jacob.” He didn’t know what she was doing, what she heard, but the fear that he’ll find out is still there. It’s silly, really she did nothing wrong. 

“Rook. Whatcha doing up? It’s early.”

That’s an understatement. There’s not an ounce of light outside yet. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” That part is at least true. 

He nods, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Yeah, me neither.” Then he’s pushing past her, a hand surprisingly gentle on her shoulder to move her aside. 

She lets go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding and retreats back to her room before she runs into anyone else. 

*****

Hope county dissolves into a bloodbath in a matter of months. It’s crazy how quickly things can change. That just yesterday John began preaching and now he’s torturing people. Jacob was building an army of faes, just in case, and now he’s forcing people—actual people—to be apart of his ranks. Faith…Rook doesn’t know what Faith’s doing actually. She’s still just as secretive as before. 

They’ve ruined the land, and she’s not too sure who’s to blame. Joseph should carry that weight, he should be ashamed. But for some reason he’s running with the whole “God's plan” deal. 

There’s a war going on. There are people dying, people getting run out of their homes as they try to flee and she is helpless to it all. Joseph keeps her inside most days, when he isn’t out in one of his churches preaching to those who are willing. Sometimes though he holds sermons that...aren’t as natural. Sermons where the people who fill the pews don’t want to be there, people she recognizes with their hands tied and mouths gagged. 

She attended that sermon once on Joseph’s request. Jacob’s hand was on her shoulder the entire time, keeping her in place because he must’ve caught the look in her eyes. The want to run and never look back. 

Once upon a time Jacob and Faith didn’t quite like what their brother was turning into. Now though, Rook is starting to wonder if she imagined all that. They look like a happy family. Like a  _ normal _ family even despite the wings. 

Rook told Jacob this, when they were home alone and he poured over notes from new recruits. 

“Normal?” He laughs, head tipping down to peer at her. “That’s a good joke.” 

She squinted at him, falling back into the couch. Should she reciprocate? Make fun of his brothers and sister? Because what he just said seemed like permission. 

“Joseph thinks he talks to God. That isn’t normal,” Jacob said softly. 

“So you...don’t think he’s hearing God?” 

Jacob’s response is immediate. It’s a gentle shake of his head. It’s given without thought and that’s strange, isn’t it? 

“Does he know that?” She ventures carefully, watches as his eyes flicker across the page and up to her. “That you don’t believe?”

“I never expressly said it, but I’m sure he knows.” 

Rook hums and before she can say anything stupid she stands and walks off to her room. She flops against the bed carelessly, arm flung over her eyes as she focuses on breathing. 

The window to her left is open, has been all night, and the smell of fire has invaded her room. If she wants to be a real pain she’d ask Joseph to try and get her an oil diffuser just so she can smell lavender or oranges, anything other than burnt corpses. 

She must've drifted off at some point because the next thing she knows she’s jerking awake and the sun is halfway in the sky. Her eyes flicker around the room, unsure as to why she woke up.  _ But something did.  _

Her gaze strays to the shadows at the end of the bed, circles around until she hears it.

The creaking of wood—her door—snaps her head in that direction. It jostles slightly on its frame, caving in, as if someone’s on the other side. Fiddling with it. 

Rook’s tempted to get up, to swing it open and get angry just because she can. Because she’s stressed and she desperately needs someone to take that stress and anger out on. She doesn’t have time for that though. Her head cocks slightly to the side, trying to somehow figure out who is beyond her door just by the press of bare feet, when she hears a soft  _ click _ . 

It’s subtle. A barely there sort of noise you wouldn’t hear unless you’re listening for it. 

She sucks in a breath and throws the blankets to the side, carefully padding over and praying that she isn’t locked in. Her hand hits the knob, turns it, pushes and—

It doesn’t open. Doesn’t twist all the way like it should. Gets stuck halfway and doesn’t let her go free. 

Her fist knocks against the wood, not entirely loud, not enough to wake anyone, but enough to let whoever is on the other side know that she’s awake. 

“I’m sorry, Rook.” 

Joseph’s voice carries sincerity. Love and affection. Maybe actual, genuine regret. But if he was sorry he’d stop trapping her in places, wouldn’t he? 

“J-Joseph.” She skips over his name, throat constricting painfully as she swallows. “Don’t do this.” Her palm lays flat on the door and she swears he’s doing the same. That she can feel his heat through the thin wood. It’s all in her imagination—or hell, maybe it’s a power faes have. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats again. “I don’t want them stealing my lamb. I’m doing what is right and just and,” he takes in a breath and she wonders who he’s trying to convince. “It’s for your own good. One day you’ll see that.” 

There’s the sound of his retreating footsteps. Her mind is too numb to call out to him, for her to scream and yell, to demand to be let out. Instead she slides down the length of the door until she hits the floor and she can draw her knees up to her chest. 

She falls asleep like that, hoping that she’ll wake to someone bursting into her room to let her free. 

*****

It’s been  _ weeks.  _ Weeks of boredom and near isolation like she’s never known it before. She’d be more annoyed if she wasn’t so afraid. 

There had been no reason before for Joseph to keep her locked up—at least not in Hope county—he’s got to be doing something terrible. Something that would cause her to go running. Or fighting. 

She’s thinking of trying to break down the door. It’s handmade, can’t be too strong. It’s not like she’s weak either. She’s been given food and water, hasn’t been left to die, so there’s still a world beyond this room. She could do it. Use brute force and pray that she’s faster or stronger than whoever has been left to guard her. 

Or—or she could be smart. 

She’s tried to get out from under their thumbs before and she’s never been able to do it. Not once. They’re always one step ahead. Physically she could knock down the door, but then what? She has to play their game, stop being human despite whatever her brain tells her is right and be like them. 

She’s got powers—weak ones—but that can change. That’s what Joseph told her. If she can’t do something one day then she might be able to do it the next. Isn’t that the way young faes are taught? Just to use their powers over and over again until they’re strong? 

Joseph has one of his own delivering the injections now. She’s been getting her dose—which doesn’t mean this will be easy—but it’s possible to do this. Whatever chemicals are giving her these powers is still in her body. 

So she practices. She puffs her wings out and racks her brain to remember the motions Joseph demonstrated to create gusts of winds strong enough to blow someone off their feet. When that inevitably tires her out she switches to the shadow melding. Or that’s what she thinks it’s called. Maybe it was shadow mending. Not like she can ask. It would be too suspicious for her to suddenly have an interest in being a fae when she’s blatantly ignored it in the past. 

The first week is...awful really. She’s lethargic and achy. Irritable too. She considers stopping once or twice. The second week isn’t better. Somehow she thinks it’s worse. That  _ she’s  _ gotten worse. It’s probably all in her mind though. Her own doubts that drag her down. The third week is when she sees improvement. When she pushes her wings down hard, until there’s a dull pain along her spine that makes her grit her teeth—and she knocks something over. It’s a plastic water bottle, empty at that. It’s a start though. Gives her that small boost of confidence that makes her do it again and again for the entire day until she’s sweating. 

Blending in with the shadows is easier. Takes less of a toll on her body. She just has to close her eyes and imagine it, has to think nothing but darkness until she feels her body get pulled in every direction. Then she’s gone. It’s just a matter of zooming from one shadow to the next. She keeps the lights off and the curtains drawn, letting in a sliver of light. She’s got that skill down by the end of the night. She skips between shadows, knowing there’s only the briefest flash of herself before she’s gone again. 

It’s all going well until suddenly it isn’t. That’s life though, huh? 

Her injections stop coming. Not quite suddenly and not without her knowing why. The man who brings them to her is only a couple steps inside her room, about to shut the door, when Jacob jams a palm out and stops that.

He steps in and glares at the poor fae, eyes flickering down to the syringe before speaking coolly. 

“Those are going to be stopped until my say so.” He ignores her confused look. As well as the protests that arise from the fae. 

“But Joseph—“

“I don’t care what Joseph wants. He’s out there, busy with Eden’s Gate and I’m supposed to run things back home.” Finally his eyes slide up to hers. “Including our lamb.” His lips twist into a frown as he looks back down. He crowds the fae’s space, chest bumping into his. “Are you disobeying orders?”

“N-no. No, sir.”

“That’s what I thought. Now get the hell out of here.” 

He doesn’t waste any time. The fae is gone, practically flying out just to get away. And Jacob is quick to follow. Hands tight around the syringe, muscles tense across his back as he leaves. 

“Jacob!” 

She rushes forward to grab him but he’s faster than her. Already gone and locking her in again. She slams into the door, fists beating it until she grows tired and the skin on her arms begins to tear. 

Rook wasn’t too sure what she would’ve even said if she caught him. That she needs those injections? That he’s ruining her plan? Stupid. She’s so goddamn stupid. It can still work though, she just has to go  _ now.  _ Well, okay, maybe not  _ now _ now. But soon. She’ll give herself three more weeks before the drugs wear off. Three weeks. 

Fucking hell. She never did well with deadlines. 

*****

Tonight. She has to do it tonight. She feels herself getting weaker, all that hard work whittling away as her body returns to normal. As she becomes human once more. With it comes the awful realization that her wings are going limp. That it’s getting more and more difficult to move them. 

She doesn’t want to think about that. About the soon to be dead appendage that’s stuck her body because of Joseph. 

Rook can’t afford to practice once more, using her powers still tires her out. She’ll need everything she has to get out. So she curls up in her bed with the blankets drawn high and passes out from exhaustion. 

She wakes only a few hours later and again  _ she doesn’t know why.  _ She’d revel in the strange deja vu that washes over her but she blinks and sees him standing there. 

She’s up and out of the bed before he can get her—it’s the worst case scenario. Fighting a man like Jacob. He’s big and strong and he’s got to have a better grip on his powers than she does. And he’s waiting for her. Maybe she wasn’t as secretive as she thought. Maybe he just  _ knew.  _

He doesn’t exactly charge her though, he takes a step out away from the shadows and reaches out. Holds out his palm for her to take. It throws her for a loop only for a moment before she tackles him. 

Dumb, really. After all that work she doesn’t use it. She catches him off guard though, makes him stumble back a step and that’s when she shifts. Blends into the shadows to disappear completely. For a second she can enjoy the way Jacob spins slightly as he loses her.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Rook.”

_ Bullshit,  _ she wants to say but absolutely doesn’t. 

“There’s a reason I took you off those injections.” 

_ To make it easier to kill me. _

“C’mon, kid. We don’t have a lot of time.” 

His head turns this way and that, eyes squinting. And she wonders if there’s a way to see someone stuck in the shadows. He breathes out a sigh and stands in front of the door, blocking her exit.

It’s then that she notices how tired he looks. How disheveled. Something is going on that she’s not privy to. 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually says. Head dipping down as his fists clench by his sides. “My brother was—is—wrong. I never should’ve let it get this far. Now I’m trying to help, Rook.” His hand nears the light switch. 

A growl rips its way out of her throat, anger coiling tight as she pushes her wings down and tries with all her might to knock him off his feet. To gain some sort of advantage despite him blocking the only exit. 

Her brain is frazzled and she’s so terribly scared, and she doesn’t quite think that doing such a thing would reveal where she is. She hoped that she’d be strong enough that it wouldn’t matter. But Jacob fights against the wind and he grabs her. Pulls her in close to his chest before he tosses her away. On her bed where he climbs on top of her hips. 

His thighs crush her ribs, squeeze her until she feels like something might break. Her hands go up and scramble to scratch as wherever she can reach. Her eyes jump to the knife strapped to his thigh, pointy and sharp and so ready to kill. 

“Why?” She asks, her voice breaking on the word. 

He doesn’t answer, just lifts himself up slightly to give himself room to flip her over on her stomach. He sits back down right above her ass, a hand falling to the middle of her back. Between her wings. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeats again. “Or…” he huffs. “This is gonna hurt but there’s nothing I can do about that. I don’t mean to hurt you, I don’t want to.” He strokes one of her wings, fingertips brushing along the weakened things until she’s squirming from sensitivity. 

He lifts her shirt up above her head, fingers scrambling for the clasp on her bra despite the squeak of protest the falls from her lips. 

“Try and stay still.” 

And then there’s pain. The kind of pain she never thought possible. Pain that she would’ve thought would be enough to knock her out. But she’s awake, more than aware to each spike of red hot fury that get unleashed on her body as Jacob takes his knife and rips it along the seams of her wing. 

She arches up, at least tries to, he keeps her still as best as he can. Murmuring what she assumes to be soft words of reassurance. But she can’t do it, she can’t go through this. It’s just as bad as when Joseph put them on her, and now she knows why the brain is wired to remember pain.

Rook can’t help it—she screams. Blood runs down her back and pools at the curve of her pajama pants. Staining her skin and the sheets beneath her. 

“Almost there, honey.”

She laughs and it’s watery, warbled and broken that it doesn’t even sound like her. 

Her wing gets torn off with a wet sounding _pop_. One that makes her flinch and shudder. 

“There we go.” His hand raises, like he’s about to run a hand through her hair, but he stops himself short when his fingers drip blood. Her blood. “One more, okay?” 

“No.” Finally she finds her voice, however weak it may be. “No, Jac-cob. Wait.” 

“I can’t.” And he at least sounds remorseful. 

The second one does make her pass out. She feels consciousness slip away again and again as she falls and comes to. Going into the void for seconds at a time until it’s all over. 

Rook can’t imagine what her back looks like. All bloodied and bare. Nothing there except for exposed red flesh that shouldn’t be on display. 

“C’mon, c’mon, Rook. Get up.” He’s hauling her to her feet before she can protest. He guides her arm over his shoulder, encouraging her to lean on him. “Need a shirt, huh? Hang on.” He lets go of her, a hand keeping on her hip as he bends down to grab at her discarded shirt. 

He eyes her wearily, maybe knowing like she does that putting fabric over a raw wound wouldn’t be a good idea. The thought of being paraded while half naked though makes her cringe, so she takes it from him and struggles into it. Immediately falling against Jacob once more. 

“Going to see a doctor,” he murmurs, “get you fixed up and everything will be fine.”

She shakes her head even as they make it out the door and into the cool night. “Joseph…” 

“I’ll deal with him.” 

She whimpers, a new set of pain making its way through her as he helps her into the back seat. Laying her on her side as carefully as he can. She flips over on her stomach, fingers digging into the leather as tears slip down her face.

The car starts up with a rumble—it’s so loud in the otherwise quiet of the night. And the headlights so bright. She’s not sure how fast they’re going, and she can’t bring herself to care. All that keeps running into her mind is how  _ mad  _ Joseph will be when he finds out that Jacob has stolen his lamb. 

*****

She recognizes where they are immediately, even if the place has been abandoned for years. 

The Veteran’s Center. 

Rook doesn’t remember a time when it wasn’t closed, it’s been literal years since people inhabited it. It was so run down that no new buyers came to pick it up, and no one in Hope was dissatisfied with the land they had to take to the Center. So it stood there on the edge of the mountains collecting dust. Home to generations of teenagers who have heard ghost stories since they were kids and wanted a fun kind of scare. 

Now it’s filled with faes and people alike. Soldiers training, she realizes past the fog in her brain. 

No one bats an eye as Jacob hauls her out of his truck and up the drive. He’s given a wide berth as he leads her inside and climbs the stairs. He’s careful with her, stopping every so often when she yelps. It’s strange, a side of Jacob she never thought she’d see. 

They make it somewhere that she can tell is a doctors office—and she has to laugh. How is a doctor going to fix her? Is anyone really equipped to sew skin onto the missing patches of her back? 

Jacob seems to think so. 

He helps her up onto an uncomfortable metal table, a hand continuously smoothing over her shoulder. It’s nice. Makes her calm down just a little bit. 

The process is...a weird one. There’s no pain this time. The doctor comes in and he’s a fae—no surprise there—but he’s different than what she’s used to. Doesn’t seem as mindless as the rest of them who follow Joseph. And the way he looks at Jacob...like he’s fond of the large man. 

Strange. These past few months have been very strange. Even the words they’re using are foreign to her. 

“We should use the bliss, the stuff your sister—“

“I know what it is.” 

This man, Oliver is what Jacob called him, only sighs. Pulling something out of his pocket and to weigh it in his hands. “She won’t feel a thing. Not with this. We’ve already worked out the dosage.” Oliver tips his head, a soft smile on his lips. Suddenly she feels like she shouldn’t be here. Like she’s witnessing something too intimate. 

“Jacob,” Oliver steps forward, a hand pressing onto Jacob’s arm. “You trusted me, only me, to help you with this. Now you have to trust me.” 

Standing side by side the way they are, Rook takes a second to compare the two. Oliver is only two inches shorter, which is quite a feat, with brown hair swept back from his eyes. Beautiful brown eyes that go surprisingly well with Jacob’s blues. His wings match his eyes—something she’s never seen before. Dark wings that border on chocolate colored. 

Jacob looks over Oliver’s shoulder to her, wings pulled in tight to match the rest of his tense muscles.

“You care for this human. Or hell,” Oliver shrugs, “maybe you don’t really, maybe you’re just guilty. Either way you don’t want her to be some fucked up hybrid. I can do this, but I refuse to if she’ll be in that much pain.” Oliver’s hand drops away from Jacob’s scarred arm, falling to clench into a fist. “I’m a doctor and I won’t do a procedure with her screaming and writhing around because it hurts.”

Jacob’s face softens, his shoulders drop slightly as he breathes out. She sees him considering, looking at the vial still held in Oliver’s hand. “Okay,” Jaxov eventually relents. “Go ahead, give it to her.” 

“Thank you.”

Oliver uncorks the glass bottle and spills the contents onto his fingers. Without a word he smears the powder onto her upper lip and she’s gone. Gone into a world that she’s sure doesn’t exist. It’s a drug alright. Something unnatural that’s doing weird things to her head. 

She isn’t sure where she is most of the time, or how much time has passed since she wakes up lying on her side in a moving car. 

She must’ve made some sort of noise because from the front seat she hears Jacob laugh. “Christ, he really did it.” Then, softer, “I thought you died on me.”

Rook grunts, tongue clinging to the roof of her mouth. 

“Doctor gave us some pills for the pain. Though the bliss should last for a few hours.” 

She can’t talk, she wants to but she can’t make her mouth form the words. Instead she closes her eyes and drifts off again. 

This time when she comes to she’s lying in a bed back in that wretched room. But this time the door is open. The door is open and she hears people screaming. 

“Where is she?”

“Joe—“

“No, you have no right! Where is she!?” 

Rook knows that she’s in danger. She feels it in her bones. She struggles to stand, her legs feel like jelly, but she manages. It’s hard to walk the couple steps it takes to get to the door, she almost falls and ends up slamming into the frame. But she makes it. 

She glances right, where the yelling is coming from, then right. Faith is standing there. Back pressed against her door, eyes blown wide. She sees Rook and shakes her head. And now Rook notices the redness around her eyes, like she’s been crying. 

There’s a smash from somewhere within the house and it makes Rook turn her head. Her brows furrow.

“I have no qualms fighting you, Jacob. If that’s what it takes.”

“Christ, do you even hear yourself? What the hell are you doing anymore, Joseph?” 

She has to go. She has to be the one to talk Joseph down. She doesn’t think anything else would calm him. Unless the sight of her, human and wingless, makes his temper flare. 

She has to at least try. 

Faith makes a sound in the back of her throat when she steps forward and leaves the confines of her room. The woman doesn’t try to stop her though. Each step makes the new skin on her back tighten and stretch, it's uncomfortable, makes her frown and pause. Eventually though she gets there.

She stands at the threshold of the living room and stares. Stares at Jacobs back, with his wings flared and angry. Stares at Joseph’s wild eyes and regrets when she meets them. 

“Angel…” 

Jacob turns his head ever so slightly to look at her and he grimaces. He doesn’t tell her to leave, focusing on Joseph when the man takes a step forward. 

“C’mere, let me see how he’s ruined you.” Joseph lets out a sob, “I’ll fix you again, don’t worry.” 

She doesn’t know what to say, her mouth is dry and her mind is still muddled. Jacob speaks for her. 

“You’re not going anywhere near her. In fact, you’re going to let her leave.”

She tilts her head to the side, a wave of adrenaline flushing into her bloodstream. After all Jacob’s done she never once considered that he would just let her go. 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Joseph hisses, taking another step. Then another. Getting closer and closer until—

He’s got a gun. 

He aims it at Jacob. 

At his brother. His protector. His family. He aims it while he’s still taking strides forward. He finger hovers over the trigger ready to squeeze and and and 

And Jacob’s faster. 

Jacob’s been training an army. Jacob knows how to fight. 

Jacob always carries his knife. 

His knife is sticking out of Joseph’s throat for a second before Jacob pulls it out and catches his brother where he jams it in again, in his stomach where he leaves it there this time. 

They fall to the floor and Jacob gathers Joseph in his lap and hushes his gurgled cries. From where she’s at even she can see the confusion in Joseph's eyes, the sorrow and fear all wrapped into one as he stares up at Jacob. Anything he wants to say is lost to the blood filling his throat.

He goes quiet in a matter of seconds. Dead. So dead. 

Jacob runs his fingers through Jacob’s hair. Down his cheek. He squeezes his shoulder then pulls his brother in for a one sided hug. 

“Jacob?” 

She’s sure they both jump. Heads flicking up to the doorway. Where John stands. Hands limp by his side, head tilted as his bottom lip trembles. 

“Jacob what...what did you do? What happened?” 

Jacob doesn’t say anything, he does however extend his hand and lets John take it. He pulls John to the floor and hugs him. John sobs into the crook of Jacob’s neck. His whole body shakes with the action, fingers grabbing onto Jacob’s jacket and down, down to touch his dead brother.

“Why?” Is all John asks when he pulls away, hands framing Joseph’s cheeks. 

Jacob coughs, eyes closing when John asks again. 

So Rook speaks for him. Tries to say the words Jacob can’t get out. “He was too far gone. We couldn’t—“ her voice catches even though she should be rejoicing, “nothing could save him. He was too dangerous, John.” Her eyes stray to the gun lying halfway across the room. And she wonders briefly if Joseph even knew how to shoot. 

“He would’ve killed us.” She mumbles, but even as she says those words she stumbles past John and Jacob—lets them mourn together—where she collapses on the floor. She touches the gun, familiar only because of past hunting trips. She picks it up, runs her fingers over the metal and dislodges the clip. 

Empty. 

It’s empty. 

“Rook?” 

She puts the clip back in and drops the gun like it’s burnt her. “Yeah, John?”

“Help us bury him? Please?” She hears him sniffle, a whine breaking free from his throat. “I know what you think, ah, thought of him. But...he would never have killed you. He loved you. Please, please, Rook can you—“

“Yes.” She brushes away a tear before turning around, before they can see. And she looks at Joseph's dead unseeing eyes and apologizes in her head over and over again. 

Before they leave, Jacob holding Joseph limp in his arms, Rook picks up the empty pistol and tucks it into her jeans before anyone can see. 

Everyone needs a few secrets they take to the grave. This one will be hers. For Joseph.


End file.
